


5 Times Ron Got a New Job and One Time Harry Did

by genericfanatic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Divorce, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley - Freeform, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-09-21 00:56:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17033256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genericfanatic/pseuds/genericfanatic
Summary: Adulthood is harder than it is expected, and nothing works exactly according to plan. This is especially the case for Ron Weasley, who planned out his entire life after the war, and then had all of that dashed aside.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER FOR THE FIC  
> This fic does start as Harry/Ginny, but it isn't endgame, which is why i didn't have it as a ship tag but as an additional tag.

“I do,” Ginny said, smile bright.

“Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginevra Molly Weasley as your wife, to love and to cherish, to provide and care for, for the rest of your days?”

Harry was already crying for everyone to see, staring blankly at Ginny. After a moment of silence, Ron stepped forward and gave Harry a nudge. “Oh! Yes, I do. I do.” A giggle rang out among the crowd, as small as they could make it. 

Half the wizarding world was trying to get an invite to the wedding of Harry Potter, to the point Harry had hired some of his aurors to attend, on paper for the threat of dark wizards, but in practice to keep out the paparazzi. All bugs in the reception were to be swatted on sight.

“Then I pronounce you: Husband and Wife.”

Ron was the first to start clapping as they kissed, quickly followed by the rest of the audience. His mother had been openly sobbing since Ginny walked out in her dress, and his dad wasn’t far behind.

Ron smiled. The last wedding the Weasley family had was Bill and Fleurs, who were trying to calm down their new baby daughter. Ron was finally an uncle! And damn his niece was loud. 

Ron was the one to pull Harry out of the kiss, earning a scathing glare from Hermione across the aisle, but it dissipated as the entire bridal party descended on Harry and Ginny to give them their congratulations. 

Ron ruffled Harry’s hair, messing up what little control he had of it, and saying, “it’s official now mate, we’re actually brothers.”

“In-law,” Harry added.

“Details,” Ron dismissed, as Molly tried to bring some sense of order. She pulled Harry back so he could walk with Ginny down the aisle for their first steps as Husband and Wife, but in the chaos, snuck her own warm hug.

Harry and Ginny walked away to the tents they’d set up in the Burrow yard, taking the crowd with them. Ron hung back, waiting until enough people had passed that he could make it over to Hermione. “You are incorrigible,” she reprimanded.

“You love me for it,” he said, pulling her in and kissing her head. She had used some time consuming spell to keep it in control, which she’s offered to Harry, but his nerves were bad enough today as it was.

“Are you SURE you don’t want me to look at your speech?” Hermione asked, “don’t tell me you aren’t nervous about it, you looked at it and we’re making changes right up until we apparated.”

“I got it,” he reassured her, “come on, have a little faith in me.” He wrapped a hand around her shoulders and pulled her over to the reception.

She sighed, in a very Hermione-y way. “I have faith,” she said, “I just want to help.”

“Your presence is all the help I need,” he said, earning a confused and amused look, “you’re my muse! My inspiration, my…” he struggled to find a third word.

“Your influence?” Hermione suggested.

“See, there you go again,” he kissed the top of her head again, then tilted her head so he could peck her lips. 

She giggled, both at the words and the affection. “Just making sure you don’t burn out your brain,” she said, “you still owe me a dance.”

They danced the night away, to the point she had almost distracted him from his nerves. 

Almost.

The thing was, she was also the centerpiece of his nerves. What Hermione didn’t know was that a few months ago, he and Harry had made a pact, over a tense game of gobstones. Whoever won got to ask his girlfriend to marry him at their graduation (Hermione and Ginny’s, that was, Harry and Ron had decided not to return to school). Ron was still convinced Harry had cheated.

But the compromise was that the loser could ask their girlfriend to marry them at their wedding reception, thus not overwhelming the family with two weddings at once. 

And today was that day. The day they’d switch and go from Harry and Ginny’s moment, to Ron and Hermione’s. Which was why Ron hadn’t let Hermione look at his speech, and also why he had been checking and editing it right up until the last minute. 

Still, dancing helped. After missing so many dances with Hermione over his life, he enjoyed every minute he could. 

When they finally separated, Ron went to go get them both drinks, while Hermione sat back at the table, laughing about something with Ginny and Luna. That was when Harry cornered him. “You ready, mate?” 

Ron sighed, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, “She loves you. Has for years, though you were too thick to notice.”

Ron glared at him for that. “I know, I know,” he admitted, “I’m just going through all the worst possible scenarios….”

“Stop it,” Harry said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You two are the best mates I could ever ask for. You’re meant to be and all that cliche nonsense. Just trust in it.”

Ron nodded, taking a breath, “You absolutely sure you’re okay with me stealing the thunder at your wedding.”

“Mate, do you see Ginny’s dress? No one’s stealing anyone’s thunder.”

Ron made a face, “You still can’t talk about my sister that way,” Ron said, “It’s just too weird.”

Harry chuckled, “I talked about your plan with Ginny. She thinks it’s cute. Go for it.” 

They turned back to their ladies. Hermione and Luna were still laughing, but Ginny’s smile seemed a little more forced as she listened to Hermione talk. She said something and then got up, making her way through the dance floor over to Harry and Ron, trying to avoid relatives where she could. “Um, Ron,” she said, trying to keep her voice low, “I need to talk to you.” 

“Ginevra!” the unmistakable voice of Auntie Muriel spoke up, “Ginevra, you haven’t talked to me this whole time, come over here, bring Harold with you.” 

Harry closed his eyes. For some reason, Muriel was convinced that Harry was a nickname, no matter how many times he’d explained it. “Come on, Ginny,” he held her shoulders for support, “Can’t put this off any longer.” 

“But I-” She said, looking concerned at Ron. 

“We’ll talk later, don’t worry,” Ron assured her, and brought Hermione their drinks. 

Ginny didn’t get to connect with them before the toasts started. Arthur and Molly each got one, and neither of them made it through without crying. Luna had a speech of her own as Ginny’s maid of honor that was a little scattered, but it was very sweet. They think. 

And finally, it was Ron’s turn. “I’ve known about Harry Potter, the boy who lived, since before I can remember. He was a children’s tale like from Beedle the Bard. I always expected him to be some tall, strong, wizard of legend.” He smirked, “imagine my surprise when this lost, short, nerd showed up and sat with me on the train.”

He earned a laugh from the crowd, and from Harry himself. “That day, Harry bought every sweet the trolley offered, and he shared it with me. And ever since, he’s been the best friend I could ever hope for, other than this one, of course,” he put a hand on Hermione’s shoulder, and she beamed at him.

“Throughout the years and all our adventures, Harry had proved himself the ONLY man worthy of my sister. And I’m so happy that today, the Weasley family gets a bit bigger. So happy, in fact, I think I want to expand it a little more.” There was some confused muttering at that, wondering what he meant. If he had turned around, he might have seen Ginny and Harry motioning at him to stop, stop now, but he was too focused on his task at hand. 

He pulled a small ring box from his robes and knelt before Hermione. The crowd gasped. “Hermione Jean Granger,” He said, “I love you with all my heart, would you please do be the honor of marrying me?”

Hermione stared at him, jaw dropped. Someone, probably George, wolf-whistled at them, starting a cheer all around them. Ron’s nerves were jumping like Irish dancers as he waited for some kind of response. Hermione looked around at the cheering crowd, all encouraging her to say ‘yes.’

Instead, she swallowed, shaking herself and turned back to Ron. “Can...can we talk in private, please?”

Ron’s entire being seemed to fall out of him. A buzzing went through his system, blocking his ears from the whispers, the ‘did she yes?’ ‘I think she said no’ ‘poor Ronald’ etc. as they made it out of the backyard and Hermione led him into the house. 

The second the door closed behind them, Hermione released his hand and looked sheepish at him. “You don’t want to marry me?” The thought seemed to slip out his mouth without much conscious effort. If he didn’t feel his lips moving, he might have thought it stayed contained in his brain. 

Hermione looked...pityingly at him. “It’s not that,” she said, “I just...I’m not ready yet. We’re still very young, and I just started my job, and…and…”

“What does that matter?” Ron asked, “we’ll still be young and starting jobs if we’re married. What difference does it make? Unless…”he trailed off for a moment, Hermione tilting her head curious, “unless you think we’re going to break up.”

Hermione shook her head, “no, of course I don’t. I love you! But..”

“But what?”

“I mean, we haven’t even been dating that long,” Hermione said, “and like I said, we’re still young.”

“We’re older than Ginny and Harry,” Ron argued, “and they haven’t been dating much longer than we have.”

“Harry and Ginny made their own decision,” Hermione said, “that doesn’t mean we have to do what they did,”

“My parents got married at our age.”

“For fucks sake, Ronald,” Hermione said, surprising him. She didn’t swear often, “look, we’re just. I’m balancing a lot right now with my job, and I just got out of school, and you and I are still learning how to be a couple and adding MARRIAGE onto that is just..just..it’s doomed to failure.”

“It’s just a party,” he said, “some vows and some different words, what does it matter if we get married now or ten years from now?”

“If it doesn’t matter, then why can’t we WAIT?” She demanded of him.

“Because I want to!” He said, “don’t you want to be part of my family?”

“Of course I do!” She said, “someday! But not yet, not right now. I’m far too busy with my work—“

“You’re too busy for me?” He said, frowning.

She sighed, “that’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I’m not so sure I did,” he said, “a job is just a job, it’s how you make money so you can spend time with the people you love.”

“Maybe it is for you,” She said, “But I actually LIKE my job. I’m doing important things in the magical law office, I’m working to actually change things after the takeover, and I’m proud of what I’m doing! It doesn’t mean I love you any less, it just means that needs to be my focus right now.”

“I know about important work, I’m an auror for fucks sake,” he said, “but it’s still a job and I hate it, and the only thing that makes it worth it is coming to see you at the end of the day!”

“If you hate your job so much just quit!” She yelled at him, “but don’t take it out on me.”

“I’m not taking it out on you!”

“It sure sounds like you are!” She said, “you’re incredibly smart and incredibly talented, and if you don’t like what you do, do something else!”

“Life isn’t that simple!” He said, “how are we supposed to pay for things if I'm without a job?”

“Here’s an idea:” she said, “let’s not get married for a while! Save up!”

Something ugly was twisting up inside of Ron. Every time she said ‘I love you’ just sounded like pity now, and every time she said she didn’t want to get married, it sounded like she didn’t want him. “Tell you what,” he said, "you don’t want me, you don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Ronald stop, that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“Look, it’s fine, I won’t get in the way of your job anymore, and you don’t have to worry about figuring out anything.” He turned his back and started out the door.

“You’re seriously breaking up with me?” Hermione, her anger hiding most of her hurt, “are you serious Ron—“

Ron slammed open the door, prepared to re-join the wedding, only remembering at that moment they didn’t cast a muffliato charm. The entire wedding party was looking at them, dead silent except for a few judging whispers.

So he did the only thing he could think of doing.

He disapparated.

 

It took 3 days before he caved and ended up back in front of Hermione’s flat in London with a bouquet of magical flowers. She opened the door and they stared at one another for a long moment, before she opened the door wider and let him in silently.

He went to the kitchen and got a vase, filling it with water from his wand, and putting the flowers inside. “I quit my job,” he said into the silence.

“Really?” She asked, leaning on the kitchen doorframe in her pajamas. Her hair was back to full frizziness, tied back as best she could.

Ron nodded. “I just thought it was normal. Dad worked a lot to keep us all happy and fed. I couldn’t imagine him really liking it.” He sighed. “George gave me a job in his shop for now, helping out.”

Hermione stepped forward, “is that what you want?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s fun for now. But I don’t invent stuff, it’s not...it’s not my place.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I want, except…” he dared look up at her, meeting her big brown eyes. “Except I want to be with you.”

She stepped forward, small smile playing on her lips. “I want you too,” She said, stepping into his arms, “I tried telling you that, if you had bothered listening.”

“I’m working on it,” He said, wrapping around her as easy as breathing, “listening, I mean. I don’t...I don’t know what I want,” He said, “and it’s freaking me out. I thought I finally had it all planned. Marry you, work alongside Harry, have a family. All that happily ever after stuff.”

“Our lives aren’t a story book,” she said, resting her head on his chest, “it’s something we have to keep working on and figuring out. And I want to be there,” she gave him a squeeze, “figuring it out right along with you.”

He squeezed her back. “Thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron tries to figure out what he wants to do with his life

He still wanted to get married, and Hermione still didn’t, but they compromised: they just didn’t talk about it. 

Ron moved into Hermione’s flat, and they made profuse apologies to Harry and Ginny (apparently Hermione had said she didn’t want to get married for a while to Ginny, and that’s what Ginny was trying to warn him about.)

His job at Weasley’s Wizard Wheeezes is...okay. He likes to think he can be funny, he can talk up the products...but he’ll never be Fred. He and George can’t move as a unit. George himself had never been the same, really, though he’d finally gotten to smiling occasionally. He’d just started dating Angelina Johnson, which was nice.

Hermione, however, had taken his job search to a whole new level. There were piles and binders, resumes, portfolios, everything. She tried to convince him to go back to Hogwarts for a year, but that was a hard no. He was nearly 20, he wasn’t ready to live with a bunch of 17 year olds. He did study more, though, reading a bunch of books, and agreed to take his Newts at the end of the year.

What he would use them for, though...he had no idea. “What about a healer?” Hermione suggested, going over a list of occupations, “you’d be good at that, you have a very kind nature.”

Ron didn’t know what she meant by that. “Dealing with sick people all the time?” He said, “I dunno. That sounds gross.”

“Okay,” She said, crossing it out, “how about...something with the ministry?”

“I didn’t like working for the ministry,” he said, “that was a big reason I hated being an auror. Too much paperwork and processes and steps and just…” he sighed, “I don’t think I can do that again.”

“Hmm,” She said, crossing that out to. “Well that’s a strategy we could try, what do you like and not like.”

Ron sighed. “I like...earning a lot of money,” he said, “I don’t like dealing with gross stuff or really boring stuff”

“Ok, admittedly a lot of work IS boring,” Hermione reminded, taking notes like she was back in class.

“I thought you LIKED your job,” he teased.

She glared at him, but he could tell she wasn’t angry. “I do, but that doesn’t mean it’s not boring sometimes. It’s just the rest of it makes up for that.”

“Well the ministry doesn’t make up for it,” Ron said, “so jot that down.”

Hermione sighed. “What do you like?”

Ron lay back on the couch, groaning. “I don’t know. Nothing. I don’t like anything.”

Hermione plopped onto him, knocking the wind out of him. “Anything?” She asked, fake innocently.

He smirked. “Maybe one thing,” he said, kissing her. “I dunno. I like Quidditch. Chess. Gobstones. But nothing I can make a career out of.”

Hermione re-adjusted herself, “hmm. Well, you don’t have to figure it all out today, just...make a list or something, whenever you think of something you want or don’t want out of a career.”

Ron hummed, but nodded.

 

Hermione gave him a notepad to carry around, perfectly organized with sections all labeled, and a muggle invention she enjoyed called ‘post-it’s.’

It was a few weeks before Ron got to use it, mostly putting it out of his mind as thinking about it caused him stress. Working for the shop was fine. His feet got tired, and he was bored a lot, but it was a routine, and he fell into it. 

Sometimes, though, he fought with his brother. To be honest, by the time he got home, he forgot what the argument was about, something to do with shipping papers, but he knew he was right. It was George’s shop, though, and so he’d been outvoted.

He wanted to vent about it to Hermione, but she was working late that night, so instead he cast muffliato all over his apartment and screamed out all his anger and punched a wall. He hurt himself more than the wall, but a reparo charm fixed that and bandages helped his hand.

And then he remembered his notebook and furiously scribbled “No Bosses.”

The next time he wrote a note it was a far more pleasant experience. He was with a family of young children, each jumping up and excited at the hilarious products. He demonstrated several of them, often making himself the fool. The youngest girl jumped up and down every time, laughing at him. Her laugh was high and piercing, and she reminded him of Ginny at that age, not in looks but attitude.

As they left, numerous goods in their arms and a bright smile on their faces, Ron plucked his notepad out of his robes and wrote ‘work with children.’

He thought about children he might have with Hermione, but pushed that aside. Those thoughts could come later.

For the next several months, Hermione was very busy with her work. She was close to getting a law passed to protect the rights of house elves, or at least some bare minimums, opening the door for more in the future.

Ron tried very hard not to be bitter about the whole thing. He knew it was a lot of work and he was proud of what Hermione was doing, no question. He just wanted to see her more. But he knew the argument a comment like that would lead them toward, so he kept it to himself.

Instead, he focused his energies into more positive aspects. Picking up some things from diagon alley on the way home, (and some frequent fireplace calls to his mum) he started to learn how to cook. Well, he already knew basic survival cooking, but using some cooking Magic’s that were a little more advanced. He wouldn’t make something every night, but every time Hermione came home to a home cooked meal, she beamed and any and all toil felt worth it.

After some thought while he was taste testing, he had an idea. Charming the spoon to stir the pot itself, he took out his notebook and wrote down ‘make something (food??)’ and a second later he added ‘that makes people smile’.

Try as he might, Ron cannot copy Hermione’s studying style. He agrees with her that getting his NEWTs was a good idea, and he’d pulled in a favor (being famous had its perks) to be able to come in and complete the tests, even without finishing his final year. But that meant he had to be READY for the tests.

Hermione gave him her notes and books and absolutely all the help she could, but the words blended together on the page. He read and read until his eyes hurt (not long) but he barely managed to take anything in. Hermione even tried TUTORING him, but it just left him feeling patronized and irritated.

Finally, in an act of desperation, he just started trying the spells in the book out for himself, no matter how complicated. By trial and error, and a lot of magic reversing dust, he found out not only the right way of doing things, but why you shouldn’t do things the wrong way.

Some of his ‘right ways’ weren’t the same as the book’s ‘right way’ which appalled Hermione, but he found it to be simpler, and the side effects acceptable. So his nose itches for a few minutes, he could handle that rather than doing 20 extra wand movements he could hardly remember.

He decided to take charms, transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, herbology, and potions. He found he actually liked potions when he was allowed to experiment himself in the comfort of his own house, rather than in the dungeons with Snape leering at him. He knew Harry had forgiven him, but...there was just a lot there still.

Potions was a lot like cooking, it turned out, which made sense. But it was fun to experiment, see how far he could stretch the flavor before the actual effects changed. It was driving Hermione mad, but she did seem impressed when he found a recipe that worked. He’d take it. 

His commute wasn’t too far and usually he just walked into work from his flat in London. 

It was mind numbing. 

He felt like he hardly left London. In fact, he didn’t leave London. He changed up his route every day just to mix things up. That didn’t stop him getting bored with the scenery in Diagon Alley, though. It didn’t make sense, he was used to being in one place for a long time. But he was getting increasingly frustrated, like the city was getting smaller, like he couldn’t properly stretch his legs. 

On one commute that seemed more boring than all previous, somehow, he wrote in his notebook “see new sights.”

The time came for him to go in to take his NEWTs. He went by hogwarts express, which he thought would be completely empty, but surprisingly, there were a few people there. It turned out it wasn’t too uncommon for people who had either failed their newts or not done their 7th year to come back and take them later. So much for his fame bringing him favors.

There was only one person there he recognized, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Ron didn’t really know him that well, and was content to try and get his own compartment on the train...but Justin had other ideas. 

“Oy, Weasley!” he said, running up, “Mind if I sit with you?” 

“Er,” Ron said, halfway into his compartment, “I was planning on doing some last minute studying.”

“Me too!” Justin said, “We can study together. I brought flashcards!” he said, showing a deck of cards with spells on them. 

They didn’t actually do much studying. Instead, Justin talked about his time on the run, “I made it to France pretty easily, but there were still some death eater supporters out there, you know? And I was worried about going further East with all that business in Bulgaria, have you heard about all that?” Ron had, a little. Some old remnants of Grindlewalds followers switched over to side with Voldemort, though they weren’t as centralized as in the UK. “So I made my way south instead, down to Africa. That was a treat and a half, I have to say. The wizards there don’t really bother much with the statute of secrecy. Any foreign muggles just assume the locals are superstitious and the local muggles don’t have a problem with it! Fascinating stuff. They don’t use wands either! Well, some do, that came over with the colonialism, but a lot of the older wandless magic is coming back into trend, like it is out in Asia. Oh, I went to China for a bit too, very interesting, they use these orbs for their magic, kind of like crystal balls, but hand-held to use as a focus. I’d be worried about dropping it, but they seem to have a handle on it.”

“Uh-huh,” Ron said, holding his hand up and trying to block out Justin’s voice so he could read. It was hard enough for him to make his own writing form words in his head without someone blathering on about stuff that...well, some of it sounded cool. 

To be honest, he was having one of those spirals of jealousy he often had. He hated that about himself, of how no matter what he did, if someone else did something different or better, he automatically felt less-than. It wasn’t fair, not to anyone else, and not to himself. “I did some traveling too,” he added, “Just around the British countryside.”

Justin smirked at that, “I know, I read about it. Kinda hard to avoid in the news, and I read the transcript of Lee Jordan’s interview with Potter. Sounds like quite a year.” 

Ron nodded uncomfortably. Harry had….skimmed over the details surrounding Ron’s own disappearance, not to mention the more boring and dreary portions of their journey. 

“Doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun, though,” Justin continued. 

“You have no idea,” Ron muttered, unsure if it was to himself or Justin. 

“You know where you oughta go?” Justin said, “Tokyo. They have an amazing underground wizarding community there, just like Diagon Alley, it’s incredible! Not to mention the dragons, small ones, right there on the street! They really do amazing wonders with the breeding to make sure they’re tame. Well, tame-ish, accidents happen. But it’s really delightful, I collected so many more ice cream recipes for the truck there--”

“Ice cream?” Ron asked, “Truck?”

Justin hit himself in the head, “Oh, duh, I was so excited to talk about the places I’ve been I skimmed right over how I got there! Old Fortescue gave his truck to me before the death eaters got him. I think he knew something was coming…” His gaze dropped and he looked sad. “Anyway, I spent a lot of time with him in his shop during summers when I was young. He was always nice to the muggleborn kids, real patient and understanding. Hell, he explained most of the wizarding world to me! The little things the teachers and books don’t always tell you. Well, some of the books might. Wasn’t that big a reader…” he shook his head, realizing he was getting off track, “Anyway, he had this old flying ice cream truck, had a full kitchen and a small bedroom inside. Had an idea at one point of taking his business ‘round the country, but logistics, you know? So, when things were getting bad, he sold it to me, real cheap.” 

Justin sighed, “Of course, now that I’m back, I’m taking a job at the ministry. That’s why I need the NEWTs. Getting a job in the international affairs office, given how I like traveling. Guess I won’t need the truck anymore though. You wouldn’t happen to know of a traveling ice cream maker looking for a new business deal would you?”

A lightbulb flickered to life in Ron’s brain. The idea was insane. Like, absolutely mad. Slowly, though, he took his little notebook out of his pocket, and looked down at the list of things he wanted in a new job. 

 

Hermione was making dinner when he walked into their flat. “You’re early! She said, waving her wand maniacally over the pot on the stove. How she could be so good at so many things, and so bad at cooking, Ron would never understand. “I thought you were getting a room in Hogsmeade and coming back tomorrow.”

“I didn’t take the NEWTs,” he said, a little sheepishly. This was going to be a tricky conversation, no matter which way he sliced it. “I took the train right back.”

“You did?” She asked, taking the pot off the stove so she could give him her attention, “Why? You’d been working so hard!” 

“I know,” he said, “It’s just...I was talking and...and I had an idea. Suddenly the idea of NEWTs felt kinda...pointless.” 

“Why?” She asked, “I thought you wanted a new job, I mean...I mean the whole POINT was so you could get a job where you’d be happy. Why are you giving that all up?”

“I’m not!” he said, taking a deep breath as he tried to figure out a way to explain himself. “Here can we...can we sit down a moment?” She followed him to the kitchen table and sat opposite him, looking confused and concerned. “I think I figured out what I want to do. I don’t know if I want to do it for the rest of my life but...but I think it’s the next step, you know? It’s...it’s not the most lucrative or prestigious, and it doesn’t really have room for improvement, but I think it’ll make me happy. And that’s the one thing this is all about, right? Finding a place for me to be happy?”

Hermione nodded slowly, “Well...yes, I suppose.” She tilted her head, curious, “What is it?” 

Ron took a deep breath. “I want to be an ice cream man.”

Hermione’s whole face screwed up. Whatever she was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “What?”

“An ice cream man. Or driver, really. In a lot of muggle towns, they’ll have a truck that goes around and plays music to bring in local kids and then sells them ice cream and--”

“I know what an ice cream truck is,” she said, “I just...I don’t….what?”

“I know its weird, but look,” he took out his notebook, with feeble notes, “It hits everything on my list. I could set up a system, like the knight bus, so that kids or their parents could summon me, I could travel across the country, heck the WORLD to see things, and make things to make kids smile as I go.” 

Hermione read his list, thinking visibly hard. “So...you would be going away, then?” Hermione asked, “For how long?”

Ron took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I bought a van from Justin Finch-Fletchley, it’s got everything I need for long distance travel. Look…” He worried his lower lip, “It’s not something I would have thought to do in school, but over the course of this year, I’ve done some great exploring for myself. And I think I need to continue that, out there.”

Hermione nodded slowly as she finally looked up at him. “Alright then. When do you leave?”

Ron blinked at her, “Uh...I don’t know, I just…” It was his turn to frown, “You’re really okay with this?”

“Of course I am!” she said, smiling as she got up to get the stew she had made. She doubled the portions with her wand to make enough for Ron, “I’ve told you from the beginning I thought you needed to find yourself. And like you said, it’s the perfect opportunity.” She set the meal in front of him. “I’m happy for you. 

Ron’s emotions were doing something funny and unpleasant in a way he didn’t understand. He hated not knowing his own emotions. All he knew was that he was expecting a different reaction from Hermione, and was actually unhappy that she approved so readily. Maybe she just didn’t understand… “I’ll be gone for weeks, most likely,” he said, watching her eat for any sign of reaction. “Maybe months.”

“Sounds good,” she said, and his stomach dropped, “The house elf vote is being brought to the minister soon anyway, so I may be out of the house more and more. So, it all works out.”

Ron’s face was screwing up into a snarl. “Well isn’t that con-fucking-venient.”

The swear gave Hermione pause and she looked up. “Ronald…” she said slowly, “Are you angry with me?” 

The obvious answer was ‘yes’ but he didn’t understand why, so he didn’t say it. “I just think it’s interesting how eager you are to be rid of me.”

“Rid of--” Hermione sighed, “Look, Ron, I’ve had a long day, I don’t have time for your inferiority complex.”

“Inferior!” He said voice rising.

“Look, I get it,” she said, “I’m not the girlfriend you were hoping for that gets married right away and sits with you making nice home cooked meals and pops out a few dozen babies. I know your career didn’t turn out the way you wanted, but I’m sick of you being jealous just because mine is.”

“I’m not JEALOUS!” He said. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Okay, I AM jealous, I’m jealous all the damn time of my brothers and my friends and YOU sometimes, but that isn’t what this is about!”

“What, not about how I refused to put my entire life on hold for you?” she said, her own voice raising and turning sharper. They’d long ago cast permanent muffliato charms on their doors and walls for the benefit of the neighbors. 

“I never wanted you to put your life on hold for me I just wanted to get to the point where I could be there for you!” 

“What, you were going to make the money to support me as I sit at home?” She snarled, “Maybe I could knit you a few sweaters?”

Ronald stood up at that, “Hermione, I have been friends with you for nearly 10 years, and in love with you for half that time, do you really think I didn’t know exactly what I was getting into marrying the smartest witch of our whole damn generation?!” She frowned, coming up with her own retort, but he stampeded over her words like a horde of angry thestrals, “I’ve known from the day you kissed me that I would be known wherever I went as ‘Hermione Granger’s boyfriend!’ I knew that you were going to go off and do some amazing thing like...like curing death or stopping all wars or becoming Minister of the World! Don’t you realize why that’s why I wanted to marry you? I wanted to be the one you came home to, I wanted to be the one standing by your side through ALL of it! All I’ve ever done is follow people, my parents, my brothers, my SISTER, Harry, everyone. But you’re the one I WANT to follow, the one I wanted to be with, and all I want in return is to feel like you actually like me at all!” 

Hermione was struck silent from his speech, her mouth gaping open. “I--” she started, her voice cracking, and he saw her eyes filling up with tears, “I do like you,” the words came out as barely more than a whisper. 

“You hardly act like it,” he said, “You like things I do for you, but you’re never around, and you’re never--” he hadn’t even realized he had started crying, “You’re not even going to miss me when I’m gone, it’s just about what’s easier for you!”

“That isn’t true,” she said, standing and walking around the table, “I am going to miss you, I ALWAYS miss you when we’re away from each other but...but we’re each our own people. I want what’s best for you, BECAUSE I love you! I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to feel guilty!”

“Well you don’t need to worry about that!” he said, throwing up his arms, “And you don’t need to worry about missing me either because I’m never coming back!” 

He hadn’t meant to say it, really. He hadn’t thought it. The words formed fully in his mouth and had left him before he even got to process them. 

Hermione’s lower lip wobbled, but she kept her tears in. “Well then fine!” She said, holding steady, “Go! Find yourself or whatever it is you want. Clearly I can’t give it to you.” 

Ron hesitated for just a moment the both of them staring each other down. Inside, he felt something die. 

Then he turned his back, using his wand to summon his things and pack them. He felt Hermione’s eyes on him the entire time as half the flat was stripped away, forming a pile at Ron’s feet. 

“And by the way,” he said, pausing at the door, “Don’t you EVER imply anything negative about my mother’s choices again. She dedicated her life to raising us and she was amazing at it, and you would be lucky to be HALF the witch she is.” 

Hermione didn’t respond to that, so he left, slamming the door behind him. 

The muffliato charm prevented him from hearing her sob on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been two chapters with major Ron/Hermione fights but i swear they'll be ok


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is still recovering from his breakup with Hermione, but in doing so, finds himself in a number of unique situations.

“Careful,” Ron muttered to himself, “Care….ful…”

He nudged his broom just slightly forward staring down the small bear wrapped around the rickity eucalyptus branch. The bear looked like a normal koala, but when Ron looked carefully, he could just make out the fangs poking out, revealing him to be a drop bear. 

Drop Bears were often mistaken by muggles as carnivorous Koalas, but their razor sharp teeth and extendable claws ensured that any who revealed their nature wouldn’t last long enough to tell. But, they were also adept at telling normal eucalyptus trees from sugarsprout eucalyptus trees like this one. They only grew in nature, and were hard to pick out, but the blossoms at the very tips of their branches were one of the sweetest in the world. 

And that’s what Ron was here for. The local wizards here in Australia had told him about it, and he knew he had to try it out for his ice cream. As long as he didn’t wake up the blossom’s sleeping guardian, he should be safe. 

Ron inwardly cringed. After years of adventure, he knew the best way to curse himself was to say or even think that he had things under control. 

And just like that, he didn’t. 

The bristles of his broom brushed against the outer edge of the tree branch, and he froze. It was just a little noise, maybe the drop bear would mistake it for the wind. 

He didn’t. 

Large black eyes opened, like orbs, and focused instantly on Ron. They stared each other down before the drop bear pounced, teeth seeming to take up half its face as he lunged for him. 

Instinctively, Ron jerked back on his brook, pulling away, but the drop bear already had clung to the tip of his broom. He went backwards so fast, he accidentally hit the tree behind him, shaking them both, but the drop bear clung on, murder in its eyes as it made a hideous growling noise.

Ron slipped his wand out of his robes and yelled “Stupefy!” The spell bounced off the drop bear’s fur. 

Now it was the beasts turn. Having gained a footing, it went directly for Ron’s face. Ron used his hands to try and wrestle it back, keeping its giant fangs as far from his flesh as he could. He tried throwing it off, but its claws dug into his robes and his arms, making a few rather painful puncture wounds. 

Instead of trying to fight it off, he clung to the little bear right back, lifting it up and getting his wand to point into its gnashing mouth, “Stupefy!” He said again, and finally the bear was struck and went still. 

Ron rested the bear on the wide branches of the tree beside him. He was invading it’s home, not the other way around, so it seemed senseless to kill it if he didn’t have to.

Hermione wouldn’t have wanted him to.

He pushed that thought aside and flew back to the tree top, gathering the unguarded sugarsprout blossoms and stuffing them in his bag. 

 

“You really got it?!” The little girl Tracy said, jumping up and down as soon as Ron stepped through the doors, cones and a bucket in hand. 

Ron smiled and winked at her, “Of course I got it!” 

The children around the room cheered, rushing over with their parents coins (they used brightly colored enchanted pebbles here, which Ron found increasingly frustrating to convert into galleons) and Ron started scooping out his brand new Sugarsprout flavor ice cream. 

The Bunyip Palace was technically a tavern, so not necessarily the best place for children, but in this rural Australian town, it was the best place for wizards from all around to gather and spend some time together, and therefore the best place for the wizarding children to interact with other wizarding children. Ron really took for granted living in a smaller country like the UK that there were usually people relatively near, even if by the burrow. 

“Uh-oh,” an older thick australian accent said, “Looks like the bear got the drop on ya.” 

Ron looked up to see Tracy’s oldest sister, Melissa, pointing at his torn robes. “Ah...yeah,” Ron said, “I cleaned up most of the wound in my truck, but didn’t have time to change.”

The last child got their scoop of ice cream and went off, so Melissa stepped up and took his arm, examining the torn bit of fabric, “Hmm, doesn’t look too bad. Here, I’ve always been handy at stitching spells. Hold still.” She took out her wand and waved it over his sleeve. The threads re-stitched together until his robes looked brand new. “There ya go. Not too shabby!”

Ron gave the sleeves a test shake, “Thanks,” he said, smiling, “I should probably get this stuff back to my truck.” he picked up his bucket and the extra cones. 

“Didja get enough this time, or are you going off to face the drop bears again?”

Ron shrugged, “Should have enough for a while at least,” he said, “But if I ever run out, I can always come back.”

Melissa surprised him by following him out to the parking lot. “I hope that’s soon. You should hear Tracy go on and on. She says you make the best ice cream.”

Ron smiled, “She’s a kid, all ice cream is the best ice cream.”

“Oh you haven’t been around Tracy that long,” Melissa said, resting on the door to the truck as Ron went into his kitchen, setting the bucket to wash itself, “She’s a connoisseur on the making.”

“Well then, I’m proud to meet Tracy’s extremely high standards,” He said, flashing her a smile.

She smiled back at him. “So, now that you’ve tracked the sugar sprout blossoms down, are you planning on heading out again?”

Run hummed as he finished putting things away, “haven’t really decided yet. I’ve been hearing good things about this weed in New Zealand, it’s supposed to have some healing powers. Thought I could do some magic and make some more tasty medicine.”

“Healing ice cream,” Melissa nodded, “I like it.”

“But yeah, kinda the point of all the travel is I don’t make super solid plans. I’ll probably send an owl out to the newspaper to put an ad out tomorrow, so people know to expect me.”

Melissa nods, still waiting. She climbs up to sit on the floor of the truck. “Do you ever get lonely out there? Traveling like that?”

Ron took a deep breath. “You know, that’s the thing most people ask me,” he said, “And...yeah, it is sometimes. But I always send owls back to my family and friends…” he drifted for a second, his heart squeezing in pain as he remembered how he didn’t have any letters from Hermione, but he tossed the feeling aside, “And I went back home for Christmas, so that made my mum happy.”

Melissa hummed, thinking, “I’ve thought about it, going off on the road, traveling around the world…”

“It can be rewarding, it’s lead me on a lot of adventures,” Ron said, leaning back and wondering where Melissa was going with this, “But it’s not for everyone.”

She made an affirmative noise again, “You know,” she said, her words turning more hesitant, “I’m pretty good at making ice cream myself.”

Oh. 

The realization hit him like the whomping willow. He really should have seen this coming but he was never good at these kinds of things. What is it Hermione had said? Emotional range of a teaspoon?

“Ah,” he said, “Well that’s...that’s good that…” hoo boy, how are you gonna talk your way out of this one, Ronald? Something nice, let her down easy, “I don’t want you.”

Ron actually flinched at the words he said. 

Melissa’s eyes widened in shock and horror, “What?” 

“What I mean is, I don’t want anyone. Right now.” Well, that was a lie. “In general, I mean just. I’m not ready and it’s not about you. I mean, it’s about me! I mean, it’s not my fault--you’re fault I---”

It was lucky Ron lived so long with Ginny Weasley as his sister. Otherwise, he might not have known the countercurse for the bat-bogey hex Melissa threw at him. 

“Yeah,” Ron said, closing the truck doors and wiping his face from the feeling of batwings, “I deserved that.”

Six months, he thought. It had been six months since he had left. Fueled by anger he first got as far away from Hermione as he could, leaving the country and ending up nearly half way around the world. Then he got into an angry howler fight with his mother, came home for Christmas, and headed the other way around, driving a line through the Americas before he made it out to Australia.

Six months since he had spoken to Hermione. He saw his whole family, including Harry, at Christmas, and had been sending all of them owls nearly nonstop. Poor Pig was almost constantly on the fly. 

Still, no matter how many people he met, or whoever he talked to, he felt lonely without Hermione. He left her, he told himself, it wasn’t fair to put that on her. But still it didn’t feel right. He’d gone on a lot of adventures in this half a year, and loved all of them, but what did it matter if he couldn’t tell Hermione?

He missed her so much, he thought he could hear her voice. 

Wait a second, he COULD hear her voice. It was heavily muffled, but he’d recognize her intonation anywhere. Was she here? Was she outside the truck. He jumped out and looked around, but the voice was gone. Curious he went back in, frowning. There it was again, she sounded upset. 

The voice was coming from somewhere in his belongings, just like---just like it did back with his deluminator!

He jumped over to his scraps of belongings all piled together because he couldn’t keep his room clean to save his life. There, hidden under scraps, was the little lighter that Dumbledore had given him. 

“Come on, can you at least give me a general direction?” Hermione’s voice came through, “East? West? Left or Right? ANYTHING, please, I have to find him,” Her voice was high pitched as it always was when she was stressed and angry, “I have to talk to him, I have so much to tell him, please remember, Ronald Weasley, can’t you help me?”

Hermione was out there, Ron thought, and more than that, she was looking for him. It had been long enough his anger was mostly evaporated by now, and just the sound of her voice was enough to dissolve it completely. He clicked the deluminator and a ball of light burst forth, moving away from him and growing as it went. 

As it did so, it moved through the truck until it hovered outside, big enough for him to drive through. 

Well, he didn’t need to be told twice. 

Jumping forward, he turned the truck on and put it in drive. 

The light orb filled his vision until he couldn’t see anything else. Then, he was driving along a street in the rain. He slowed along to the side of the street, looking around to figure out where he was. This...this was New York! He knew the deluminator was powerful but he didn’t know it was that powerful to take him halfway around the world.

More than New York, this is somewhere he’d been before. He knew this street, he was by the wizarding district, a whole area smushed in between the streets of the city. 

Just as he stopped his truck, he saw the door to the entrance of said secret district swing open, and a woman full of fury stepped out. A woman Ron was very familiar with. 

Ron quickly turned the car off and jumped out of the car, his warm-weather robes instantly getting soaked in the cold New York rain, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He just stepped forward, wanting to call out to Hermione, but not seeming to have the voice to do it. 

Hermione groaned to the pouring skies in frustration, barely gaining the notice of passing pedestrians. She looked around as she tried to figure out what in the world she’d do next, when her eyes fell on Ron’s truck...and then Ron.

Ron couldn’t really make out her face very well in the dark and the rain, but he stared back at her anyway, the both of them just allowing themselves to be poured on. 

Finally, Hermione’s voice cracked, barely audible, “Ron?”

Ron let himself smile just a bit at the sound of his name coming from her lips, “Hey,” he just said in response, a pretty lame response he’d admit, but he was a bit at a loss for words at the moment. 

Then, Hermione was moving, walking, and running. Ron braced himself, the last time she did that he’d gotten hit in the face. But she didn’t hit him, or hurt him in anyway, just hugged him the way he would have wanted the way, held him close the way he would have wanted, sobbed into his shoulder muttering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

It was everything he would have wanted a few months ago, to be proven right, to have her crawling back to him, as it were. But now that it was here, that it was happening right before him, he only found himself upset and guilty that he’d caused her any pain. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, massaging her back the way he used to, “Don’t cry, it’s alright, it’s alright.”

“I’ll cry if I want to!” She snapped at him with her old spark that made him laugh just to hear it, “And I’ll be sorry too! I have...I have a lot to be sorry for.” She sniffled and pulled away, her eyes puffy and red. Ron held her face wiping her tears away. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you have a lot to be sorry for too, but--”

Ron pulled her in, just pressing their foreheads together, “I missed you,” he whispered, finally admitting it out loud. 

Hermione crumbled a bit at that, and she buried her face into his robes. “Then why didn’t you come back?” she sobbed, “You always come back, you always…” she choked on her own tears, “I didn’t know, I didn’t know I’d pushed things too far, I didn’t know it was the last straw, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” 

She sobbed more and it was so unlike Hermione all he could do was squeeze her as though doing so would put her back together the way she was. As much as he had previously wanted her to be upset, because he wanted her to feel how he felt, facing the reality was so much worse than any pain he had. He’d take it all again if it meant she’d stop crying. “Here, come inside out of the rain.” He led her to the truck door and let her in. 

He quickly realized the absolute mess that he lived in as a bachelor, made worse by his desperate search for the deluminator, and so quickly tried shoving piles of his belongings out of the way. 

Hermione settled into a chair, still looking a mess. Her hair had been cut short at some point since he’d seen her last, and he imagined it looked nice and professional most of the time, but at the moment more resembled a soggy cotton ball, not that he’d ever tell her that. “Do you want some tea?” He asked, because at least his mother had trained that into him for when people were upset. She nodded, still not forming words. “I’ve been trying to collect good tea whenever I can find it. Something about foreign teas, it never tastes quite right. Not really sure what it is, but it’s always off.” 

“Import changes the taste,” Hermione muttered, “So even if it’s the same ingredients, it’s coming from a different place.” 

“Huh,” Ron said, as the water magically heated up, “Didn’t think about that.”

The rest of his tea fixing was remarkably fast as he rushed to get the teacup into Hermione’s hands. “Thank you,” she mumbled, taking a sip.

Ron took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I didn’t come back,” he admitted. Hermione looked up. “I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. I think it was easier to stay away while I was traveling. Out of sight and all that.” A sudden memory brought a quick smile to his face, “My mother actually had to send me a howler to get me to come back for the holidays at all. And then the family just kept pressuring me to fix things.”

Hermione looked back down, guilty into her mug. “They blamed me for you going away,” she said, “They barely spoke to me anymore. Harry did, but Ginny…”she shook her head.

Ron frowned, “They shouldn’t do that,” he said, upset with them. She shrugged, as though to say ‘that’s how it is.’ “You didn’t send me away. You know that, right?”

She took a shaky breath, “Didn’t I though?” she said, “I know we argue, we always have. To be honest sometimes...sometimes I LIKE arguing with you. It can be...fun…” she gave just a hint of a smile, “I mean, I’m a lawyer, I like debating, obviously.” Ron chuckled, but her face fell. “I just...I don’t always know when is too far...when we’ve crossed a line, and when I’ve actually hurt you.”

Ron bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. “It wasn’t your fault though. I mean, I didn’t...its my own insecurities, like you said. It was up to me. In the end, it was my decision.”

“And it’s my job as your girlfriend to notice if you’re actually feeling unloved!” she said, blushing a little at the word ‘girlfriend.’ They didn’t really know where they stood on that level right now, but Ron wasn’t going to argue it. 

Ron sighed, “Unless you used Legilimens on me, it’d be hard for you to know. I’m not always the most in-touch with my feelings, as someone told me once.

Hermione gave him a smile for that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just...I was happy, Ron. I really was. I had a great job, and I had you around, and my friends and I….I didn’t even think to question whether you were happy.” She swallowed, “And when you weren’t, I had this whole idea in my head about WHY you weren’t, and I blamed you for being stubborn and pigheaded…”

“I mean, I can be stubborn and pigheaded, I’ll admit to that,” Ron said with a shrug.

“But you weren’t! You were there and you were supporting me, and I took you for granted.” she swallowed, “I’m...I’m just so sorry. And I’m sorry about things I implied about your mother! I didn’t mean to at all, she’s a wonderful woman, I would never--”

“I get it,” Ron said, scooting his chair closer to her, “I...I understand you’re sorry. And I’m sorry too. For not telling you until it was too late, and for not dealing with it well. For lashing out and...and for not coming back.” He sighed, “I was afraid, I think,” he said, his voice going quiet, “I was afraid of what it would mean if I came back again and...and that would be the time you’d turn me away.”

“Never,” Hermione said, scooting closer herself, and putting a hand on his, “I never would, I...I’m not always good at showing my feelings either,” she said, “But Ron...I care about you SO MUCH,” She put a hand on his cheek, “You balance me out. You’re fun to talk to and to be with, you have a different type of intelligence than I do, not a lesser one, but different, with a different perspective. And goodness, you’re so...so passionate and caring and kind and sweet and I just.” she started tearing up again, pulling her hands away to cover her face, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t stop I--”

Ron reached over and pulled her onto his lap holding her again. He couldn’t help but smile, even though the woman he loved was crying. He had no idea that’s what she thought of him. He’d always imagined himself the burden on her life. “I love you,” he muttered into her hair.

“I love you too!” she said, still sobbing, “I love you so much Ronald, I--” he kissed her cheek. She took the initiative from there, grabbing him by the head and pulling him into a full mouth kiss. 

It wasn’t their best kiss. Hermione was sobbing, and he could feel the tears on her cheeks. He himself was a bit tense just from the surprise, and she was a bit forceful, trying to push all her emotions out without words, emotions far beyond Ron’s understanding, but he got the gist. It reminded him of their first kiss, surrounded by chaos and destruction, and for that it made him happier than any kiss he’d ever had. 

They held each other like that for a long while, in a position that quickly got uncomfortable. Finally they released, just a bit. “I guess it’s time for me to come home,” Ron said, smiling against her. 

She shook her head, “No, I…” she sighed, “I don’t want to go back to how things were. You weren’t happy and I...I don’t want to be holding you back either. These months, have you...have you been happy?”

And that was a tough question to answer. Because he had missed home something terrible. He had some very bad days (Drop Bears sprung to mind). But in terms of what he did? Making something that made children cheer? It was more satisfying than anything he had ever done, including fighting dark wizards. “Yes,” he said, “Yes I have.”

Hermione nodded. “Alright. I took time off to come search for you. Now I think we ought to be together for a while and figure out what we are to each other, how we work together. How we can be partners in everything, and not just following the other around. And besides…” she said, “I’m...I’m curious, of what you’ve been up to. How you’ve been, what you do. Harry’s given me some hints from your letters, but I don’t know…”

Ron smiled, “I would love to have you with me as we go,” he said, “As my assistant of course.”

That finally won him a Hermione Granger Trademark sigh of exasperation. “Of course,” she answered dryly.

 

They spent a month touring the American Wizarding World, stopping at sights and finding new ingredients and making new creations. Ron wished he could say it was all pleasant, but Hermione was serious when she said she wanted to figure out how they fit together as a couple. And like with everything, Hermione gave it 100% effort. 

It was mostly a lot of talking, about feelings and boundaries and safewords (not even the fun kind) and just so many FEELINGS Ron couldn’t deny it made him uncomfortable. He wished he could say he handled it all maturely, but they did still end up in a few fights.

Still, though, Hermione’s insistence on trying to make sure they stayed together was endearing. So they worked through the fights and talked them out and simmered down to a respectable level until they were both happy again, and HONESTLY both happy, not awkwardly compromised. Hermione brought out books on love languages and couple psychology and healthy relationships. It was just so HERMIONE that Ron couldn’t help but fall in love with her all over again. 

The month came to an end and they booked a boat back to England to take their truck with them. Hermione would have to go back to work eventually, which she apologized profusely for, and Ron actually laughed. Of course she had to go to work. Who else was going to go out and save the world?

“I don’t want to leave you, though,” she said, clutching his arm as they looked out over the water at the front of the ship. She’d become a lot clingier in the past month, something Ron was very welcoming of. 

“I’ll be back this time, I promise.” he said, leaning down just a bit to speak quietly to her over the waves. It was a bit cold out, and most of the passengers were back inside, but Hermione insisted they go and look at the view for a while. And, well, who was Ron to resist that? 

Hermione hummed, unsatisfied. “I...kinda feel like I need more of a guarantee, though.”

“What, you want me to sign something?” he said, half mocking. 

“Well...kind of, yes,” She said. He turned to her confused. 

Swallowing nervously, Hermione kneeled down on the wooden deck and pulled a box from her pocket, “Ronald Billius Weasley,” she said, putting weight on every word, “I love you so much, and I never, ever want you to doubt that again. Will you please marry me?”

Ronald wasn’t entirely sure what his heart was doing, but best guess was some combination of a marathon and a high stakes irish jig. 

Still, he swallowed all of that and said, “I don’t know, can we talk about it in private?”

Her face fell for just a moment, before she caught him smiling. She smacked his leg which was easiest to reach, “We! Are! In! Private! You! Arse!” emphasizing each word with a smack until he fell down, giggling to her level. 

It was the ring he had proposed to her with, a new one that he’d bought special for her, because new represented more love than a hand-me-down for him. It was a moonstone, magicked to glow whenever the wearer’s partner was thinking about how they loved them. She had apparently kept it. Ron took the ring and slipped it onto Hermione’s finger. Then, she took out a similar one, this one with the gems set in a band for him to wear. Both moonstones were glowing brightly. 

 

“Don’t forget to look after your knight,” Ron urged tiny Victoire, sitting at his parents kitchen table. He’d woken up with nerves, expecting to be the only one, but had found his niece bored out of her mind. She didn’t get as much attention from her parents now that she had a little baby sister, so Ron decided to teach her to play chess. 

Or attempt to, anyway. Victoire bunched her hands around her temples to stare at the board. “There’s too many things to keep track of!” She complained. 

“Hey just listen.” Ron said, smirking at her, “I once played against the greatest Wizard Chess player in all of the Americas, and you know what he said to me?” She shook her head, “He said, ‘Augh! How do you keep beating me?’”

That won him a laugh from his small niece. His attention broke to see Hermione was awake, her hair a halo around her head after somehow being able to defy gravity without magic, and quietly watching him play. “So just remember, if you’re going to lose at something, lose to the best,” he winked at her and smiled smugly. 

Despite giving her this advice, he did actually tutor her on some basic moves, and went easy enough on her that she could learn (without losing his cred, of course. He wasn’t about to give her a win she hadn’t properly earned). Any time she got to frustrated, he told her another story, like the time he was stuck in traffic while upside down, the time he had to change a tire the MUGGLE way, the time he fought off a swarm of kneazles that decided his ice cream was the most delicious thing in the world, etc. etc. 

Soon other members of his family came down, giving Victoire their own advice and commenting on Ron’s stories, until the stories themselves got bigger and bigger, like the time he saved a small town from a rabid chimera, using just his wits, his wand, and his biggest tub of rocky road. And of course, how could he forget, the time he figured out the werewolf attacks were actually the work of an evil wizard who was gouging all the people for money to fend said attacks off every month. 

It wasn’t that none of those things actually happened, it was just...maybe Ron added a foot or two to the height of the chimera each time he told it and….well, maybe the dark wizard was more of just a sleaze bag than the maniacal villain Ron had said. That wasn’t so much the point of the story, though, the point was Victoire gasping each time his life was in danger, and George laughing at every joke he told, and his mother patting him on the back for his good deeds. 

It was Hermione in the corner, remaining as unseen as she could (she wasn’t supposed to be downstairs while Ron was, not today) smiling at him with this sparkle in her eye. 

Only when Charlie started telling grandiose stories of his own did Ron manage to slip away from his family’s eye, though he knew it wouldn’t be for long. “Isn’t it bad luck to see you before the wedding?” he asked. That was why he couldn’t sleep. How could he, knowing that by evening he’d get what he’d wanted most for several years now. 

“Don’t tell me you’re superstitious now, Ron?” Hermione asked. 

“Nah,” Ron shrugged, “Unrelated, what do you think about going outside, turning three times, and casting lumos on and off? Just to be safe.”

Hermione chuckled again. “You’re good at that, you know?” she said, nodding to the family, “storytelling. Keeping people invested. It’s a skill, you know.” 

Ron shrugged, trying to seem humble and smug at the same time. It wasn’t working well, but while he was good at complimenting himself, he didn’t really know what to do when someone gave him genuine compliments. “Always fun talking about myself.”

“I mean it. You’ve done so much,” she said, turning her back to the wall so only Ron could see her. “You should write some of your stories down. You could sell them as books.” 

Ron actually snorted, “Hermione, you read my papers in school. I couldn’t write to save my life.”

“No,” Hermione agreed, a little too easily if you asked Ron, “But you can tell stories, with this.” She reached into her bag, and pulled out a small package, “Early wedding present.”

“Not THAT early,” Ron said, taking the gift and unwrapping it. Inside sat a long green quill. 

“It’s kind of like Rita Skeeter’s quill,” Hermione said, “It’ll write the stories you tell down for you. And then I can help you with editing.”

Ron smiled. “”I’ll give it a try,” he said, and kissed her cheek, “you need to be getting ready.”

“So do you!” she scolded him, about to turn around, “Did you really defeat the greatest wizard chess player in America?”

Ron smirked, “See you in a few hours, dear.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron earns fame and fortune in his new life as an author, but life has more twists and turns coming his way.

“What did you mean when you said ‘Other problems with centaurs’ in your book ‘Mandrake Sorbet and Other Stories?’” a middle age witch said, having a meager handle on her 5 year old son who was clearly just hear for the ice cream being served after the Q&A

“Ah,” Ron said, awkwardly, “So, that was for the recipe on Unicorn Hair Cream, correct?” His editor’s idea for his latest book was a recipe book for all the new ice cream flavors he’d created, intermixed with the interesting stories of how he had first come to make it. “Lovely taste, very versitile, lots of medicinal use for kids who don’t like the taste of flu potion. Anyway, as I wrote, I was fairly terrible at Care of Magical Creatures, as I hope my books exemplify,” a chuckle went around the room from his most avid readers, “So, for this particular venture, I asked my lovely wife to come along, because she’s good at everything.

“Anyway, the ‘other problems’ were actually issues on HER end, which is why I left them out of the book, but who cares, she’s abandoned me for this book signing, so I get to spill her secrets.” A nervous chuckle echoed around them, and he smirked. The truth was, Hermione had given him permission to tell whatever he wanted, but he and his editor preferred keeping the self-deprication focused on himself in the novel, rather than make fun of anyone else. Something about consistency in the text. Ron just preferred gushing about his wife rather than saying anything negative. “So, several years ago, back in school, my dear, beloved Hermione ran into some problems with a herd of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, doing something to save the world or whatever, I’m fuzzy on the details. 

“So, a centaur never forgets, apparently, and a centaur makes sure to tell her friends all about it throughout northern europe. Little did we know wandering into that Finnish forest that my wife had been declared a Public Enemy of centaur kind.” There were gasps and amused murmurs all around. “I wish I could say we gained their trust through some valiant task, but mostly it just involved pleading with them to give us safe passage. Not the proudest moment for the Weasleys.”

Another chuckle went around. Ron was weirdly pleased to find out a great deal of his readership tended to be young mothers, especially the recipe book. But there were plenty of others of all ages and sexes. He only wished Hermione could be here. 

Hermione was good at making sure she went to a lot of Ron’s events. This was just a little Q&A at Flourish and Blotts, so nothing special, nothing to put off appointments for. She apparently had a VERY important meeting to go to today, and so Ron said it was fine, she could skip it. He was only a LITTLE disappointed. 

He answered some more questions, often accidentally just reading portions of his book out loud, as they were written the way he spoke and told the stories anyway. The only problem was now that his stories were written down he couldn’t exaggerate the details as much. It was very annoying to be corrected by a 5 year old about his own life. 

Then, he got the question he’d been waiting for. It was ALWAYS asked, so he knew to expect it. “Mr. Weasley, are you ever going to write a book about...about your time fighting You Know Who?”

Ron made eye contact with his editor, Holly Bridges, who nodded at him. “Well, actually, I’m glad you asked,” He took a deep breath, and then said, “Now we’re still in the early stages, but my editor and I are actually currently working on a book about my school years.” 

Eager chatter started up at that point, questions were shouted at him, very few of which he could understand. Ron wasn’t an idiot, he knew a good portion of his small fame and success as an author did not come from his excellent stories and charming good looks, but by people who were curious about him and his connection to Harry. The sting of that hurt a little less every year.

“Please, please,” he called over the crowd, “We don’t have any details yet, not even a title, just that it IS coming, so make sure to keep coming to Flourish and Blotts so you can get a copy when it comes out!”

He then gave a nod to Blotts who knew to now take control of the crowd and usher people over to the reception for ice cream.

Ron shook a few hands and talked to a few people, before he steadily made his way over to an abandoned corner of the room. “You know you sneezed in the middle of my reading.”

“I know,” a voice came from the empty space beside him, “I couldn’t help it. Ginny’s shoved this thing in the back of our closet and I don’t think I’ll ever get the dust all out.”

Ron snorted. “Come on, I have my own little room to prepare in the back.” He went to tell his editor that he was going to have a quick tea break, and then he’d be right out. Then, he held the door a little longer than necessary so a movement could pass him.

By the time he closed the door, Harry had taken off the invisibility cloak and draped it over the chair, “Lemme see him, lemme see him!” Ron said excitedly, and Harry removed the baby harness from his chest, handing his napping toddler over to Ron who was trying very hard to muffle his squeal of joy. “Ahh! He keeps growing!!”

“That is what kids do, I’m told,” Harry said, taking a seat to relax from carrying the kid so long.

“Hi James!” Ron said, lifting the toddler. James was nearly 2 years now, and he put his little fists in his eyes as he woke, “It’s your Uncle Ron! Hello!” He bounced little James in his arms, “Oh goodness, he looks just like you! Except-”

“If you say he has his mother’s eyes, I’m going to punch you in the face,” Harry said, deadpan. 

Ron chuckled, “He DOES though. That’s a win for the Weasleys!” His attention re-focused on little James, “We’ll dye your hair red when you’re older, don’t worry.”

“You most certainly will not.” Harry said, “Ginny would kill you, and then who’d I get to babysit?” 

Ron loved babysitting for his nieces and nephew whenever he was in town, which was good, because between Harry and Ginny’s jobs, they hardly had any time. “Well, we’ll see,” Ron said, as James awoke more. The little one just realized he was awake and NOT being fed so he let out a little whine. Harry tossed him a bottle, which Ron heated with his wand, tested, and started feeding the baby in less than a minute, all one handed.

“Wow,” Harry said, “You’re a better father than I am, and you don’t have kids yet.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Ron said, “I saw you, the day James was born. You love this kid more than anything, and it shows. That’s the important part.”

Harry smiled a little, “I do love him,” he said, “So much. I just wish I had more time with him, you know? My job keeps me so busy….”

“Believe me, I know,” Ron said, “That’s why I quit.”

“Well it’s not that easy for me,” Harry said. “I’m HEAD auror. A lot of people are counting on me.” 

Ron personally thought that was kind of bullshit, but he let it pass. “You’re still a great dad. My dad worked a lot, and he was great. Don’t stress yourself too much, you’re doing a good job.”

Harry smiled at him. He looked exhausted. He’d started growing a goatee, which Ron was forced to admit looked pretty good on him. It wasn’t fair, Ron tried to grow a mustache, but with his light ginger hair, people could barely tell. Hermione had called it a worm. It was a very hurtful day. 

“So, what’s this about a book about school?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, “Holly’s been pressing me about it for a while. ‘A lot of demand’ or whatever.” he shrugged, “Wait til people open it and realize it’s just copies of my most colorful paper assignments.

Harry snorted, before drifting off into somber again. “It’s just...I know how you feel about people using you to get to me. And I do too, it pisses me off, but...I just want to make sure you’re not being pressured or whatever.”

Ron smirked, “It’s gonna be my story, Harry, not yours. You’ll just be in it.” Ron gave him an egregious wink, which made Harry shake his head. 

“Well then. I look forward to reading it.” 

“Actually, I was wondering,” Ron said, as James got sleepy in his arms, “I wanted to ask if you were up to writing a forward for it. It wouldn’t be for a long while, of course. Nothing special, just praise my every action and all that.”

Harry smirked, “Maybe,” he said, “I’m sorry, I want to say yes, but I’ve just been so bogged down.” He took a deep sigh, “Ginny wants to have another baby.”

Ron beamed, “Really? That’s great!” 

Harry’s smile was weak. “I love kids,” he said, as a clarifier, “I really do. It’s just…” He swallowed, “I mean, I have the money for a nanny, so that’s helpful. But we’ve only just gotten to the point where James doesn’t keep us up all night. And...I mean quite frankly...I just haven’t gotten to spend a lot of alone time with Ginny.”

“Nope,” Ron shook his head, “Stop. Mm-mm. No talking about sex with my sister, it’s too weird, that’s the rule.”

“I didn’t mean sex!” Harry protested. “Well...that too, but--”

“Lalalala,” Ron said immaturely, “Honestly, Harry, there’s a child present!”

“BUT,” Harry continued, “I mean it, we rarely get to see each other, or talk to each other about anything that isn’t James, or just schedule conflicts. It’s like I’m living in a house with a stranger.” 

Ron looked at him. He hadn’t seen Harry look so...so tired in a long time. “Listen, man,” Ron said, trying to keep his voice kind, “If you love her, you have to make that time. Whatever it takes, you know. Hermione can probably get you some good books on the subject if you want.”

Harry smiled. “I might,” he said, “Thanks Ron.”

Little James had finished drinking and was now squirming in Ron’s arms. “Better get this one back home,” Harry said, putting his baby carrier back on. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?” 

“Sounds good,” Ron said, and Harry slipped back under the invisibility cloak so he didn’t have to be seen in public. 

 

Ron got home late that night. He got caught up in conversations with people, sharing stories with kids over ice cream, and had maybe accidentally started a recreation circle with the kids. The parents were just pleased not to have to wrangle them for a bit. 

When he walked through the floo powder to his flat, he gave a big stretch and heard not one, not two, but three cracks in his back. He also let the kids ride his back. Which may not have been the best idea. Damn, was he getting old? He couldn’t be old yet!

It was a second later he saw Hermione on the couch. “Hey!” he said, “I didn’t think you’d be awake!” Hermione was in her pyjamas, her legs pulled up on the couch, and one of them bouncing like it was about to take off. “How was your meeting?”

“Good!” she said, overly perky, “I think, um…” she swallowed, at a loss for words. 

Hermione was never at a loss for words. “Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, “I’m, um…” she started, “I need to talk to you about something. Will you come sit down?” 

Concerned, Ron sat beside her, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” She said, “I think! I’m pretty sure anyway. It’s just. It’s so much, I don’t...I don’t know…”

“Hermione,” Ron said, reaching out his hand, “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. We can handle it.”

That was apparently the right answer. She turned her hand and squeezed, before taking out her wand and waving a circle over her stomach “Gravidi Iudicium” she whispered quietly. 

The circle glowed with her words, and Ron looked into it, like a crystal ball. There was...something moving. Something small, like jumping bean. “What is it?”

“That,” she said, her voice wet with tears, “Is our child.”

Ron looked her in the eyes to see if she was serious. But how could she be kidding. Tears fell from her eyes now, but she was also smiling as brilliantly as he’d ever seen. 

“A baby?” Ron said, his voice barely above a whisper, “Our...You’re….” She nodded. 

And then he tackle-hugged her, which was probably not advisable to do to a pregnant woman, but she recovered well. 

 

Ron was often grateful for his mother, but never moreso than now he was having a child of his own. For several months, it seemed as though she was LIVING with her son and daughter in law, but thankfully Ginny eventually got pregnant again, and she was forced to split her time between her future grandchildren.

“She did the same thing for us when James was born,” Ginny told Ron, “And apparently it wasn’t much better for Bill and Fleur.”

“Honestly I’m kind of grateful,” Ron said, “DON’T tell mum that, but. I thought wedding preparations were hell. Actually, scratch that, I thought I KNEW what I was getting into with having a baby. I mean, you’ve got your blankets and toys and clothes and crib, food, etc. But it’s just...way more than I imagined.”

“No kidding,” Ginny agreed, “To be honest, I was a little grateful too. And I bet Hermione is really grateful, you know, that you’re around and all.” 

“Of course,” Ron said, wondering if she was referring to the possibility of him leaving again, which he would NEVER do. “Where else would I be.”

She shrugged, “It’s just...Harry was so busy with work when I was pregnant.” She sighed, “When I AM pregnant,” she put a hand on her belly.

Ron frowned, his mood switching from angry to protective instantly, “Do I need to go kick his ass?”

“No, no,” she said. “I really...I get it. I know how important his work is. And it’s not like it’s just him! With my new job at the Daily Prophet, I...I don’t know.” She sighed, leaning on a wall for back support. “I just feel sometimes like...like we’re back in that year when you all were gone. Just, missing each other, or an idea of each other. And then when we’re together…”

Ron hummed, thinking. “Harry mentioned something a while ago. I thought you guys would have worked through it by now.”

Ginny shrugged, “Well. We didn’t.”

“Look, relationships...relationships aren’t easy.” Ron said in his best big-brother voice, “But you’ve got to be open and honest about what you want. That’s the only way, in the end.”

Ginny sighed, “I know, I know. We’ll be ok,” she said, with more confidence than her eyes showed. “At least we were already set up when we had our first.. How’s the move?”

With the impending baby set to arrive any day now (any day now, Merlin’s pants Ron was about to have a stroke) They moved into a new home, not far from the burrow. Hermione was ready to work until she burst, so Ron had taken a break from writing and ice cream selling to get the house ready, decorating and moving furniture and absolutely everything. If he ever saw a color swatch again he was going to vomit. That’s where his mother came in, she had this knack for taking all his ideas and making them look….good.

“Well,” Ron said, “I’ve been focusing mostly on the baby’s room. I think it’s come out quite nicely. But we’ve done some touches on the bedroom and the kitchen, so, step by step and all that.” 

Ginny nodded, looking around at the baby’s room, heavily pregnant herself. “I’ve gotta say, I didn’t think about using orange for a nursery. It’s very….” She looked around as pretense as she tried to come up with a word that was not ‘eyesore,’ “Warm.”

“I like it,” Ron said, defensively, “It’s gender neutral, a little different, and has that patented Weasley Charm.”

“Not to mention you can deck it all out with Chudley Canons merchandise,” Ginny said, eyeing the lamp with a post in the shape of a broom.

Ron smiled, shameless. 

“Ron!” Hermione called from the kitchens, “It’s time!” 

Ron frowned, “Time for what?” He called back. He didn’t think they had any appointments or anything today.

“RONALD!” Hermione cry-screeched, “It’s TIME!” 

Time...time...Merlin’s Pants it was TIME. Ron locked eyes with Ginny who had the same realization as him. Without another thought he rushed down the stairs, nearly pushing Ginny out of the way (it was probably bad karma to push your pregnant sister, but he wasn’t thinking straight.)

When he made it down, he found Hermione leaning against their kitchen counter breathing heavily, the first soaked. “Okay. Um, okay, okay, Has your water broke? How are you feeling? What do we do?” 

“To the first,” Hermione gasped, “obviously, andt--” Her whole face lit up in pain as she groaned through a contraction. “To the second….Ow…” She gasped for breath, holding the counter in a vice. 

“To the third,” Ginny answered, coming down the stairs, “You need to get to a HOSPITAL.” 

“Right...Right! Of course!” He ran to the door, grabbing the keys to his truck. “What about Hermione?”

“Her too,” Ginny said, and Ron ran back to help Hermione walk outside. 

The contractions seemed to be getting faster at an exponential rate. Ginny went with them, keeping Hermione calm while Ron drove his truck faster than was most likely legal. What did he know, it’s not like he ever got a muggle license.

Hermione’s curls were plastered to her face with sweat. “Oh no,” she muttered, “No we’re...we’re not going to make it to the hospital. The baby is coming.” 

“It’s alright,” Ginny said, “I thought that too, but you have more time than you think, trust me, it can feel like it takes forever.”

“Ginevra,” Hermione said, grasping her robes and looking her dead in the eye. “The baby. Is. Coming.”

As politely as one could do to their sister-in-law and life-time friend, Ginny checked inside her trousers. “The baby is coming.” She informed Ron. 

“What?!” Ron said, “What do we do? Should I pull over?” 

“No!” Ginny said.

“Yes!” Hermione said at the same time, and so that’s exactly what Ron did, stopping so suddenly both Hermione and Ginny lurched, Hermione crying out in pain. 

“Okay okay okay,” Ron said, getting up. “What do we do now?” he asked Ginny.

“Why are you asking ME?!” Ginny said.

“You’ve been through this!” Ron argued.

“I was a little BUSY at the time!” Ginny yelled back, both their voices rising. 

“BOTH of you,” Hermione gasped, “Hot towels,” she instructed. 

Ron nodded and went around, gathering the materials he could find and transfiguring what he needed. “I’ve got you,” he said, clutching Hermione’s hand, “I’ve got you.”

Hermione clutched him right back, nails digging into his skin. 

It was...well it was damn gross, first of all. But it was ALSO his wife and child, so he did his best not to act on his disgust. He wasn’t a healer, by any means, but he could catch the baby, use a slicing charm for the umbilical cord, and then use some magic to wash the baby. 

“It’s a girl,” Ron told Hermione, as Ginny cleaned her up as best she could. “It’s...it’s a girl!” She was so small! Ron had held babies before, but none THIS fresh. Just….so, so small. 

The little baby cried and held out her hand. Cautiously, he put his own finger there, and she squeezed with all the might her baby fingers could muster. 

And that’s when he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to care for this baby, stay home and raise her the way his mother had done for him. “Hi baby,” He said, “I’m Dad.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is doing everything he possibly can as a stay at home dad, but family news drags him away into drama with his own friends,

“Ok, now, careful...careful…”

“I’m being careful, Dad!” Hugo said exasperated with his dad being overly cautious.

“I know, I know,” Ron said, not removing his hand from Hugo’s back, “I’m just telling you, this broom has a little more kick thank your old toy broom.” Ron’s naturally frugal nature didn’t allow him to give his kids their own broom, not just yet, but he wanted to teach them how to use one. So, now that Hugo was 5, Ron was teaching him on his own.

“I got it!” Hugo said, but still clutching his broom like it might leap out from under him if he looked at it wrong.

“You have this,” Ron encouraged, “now just lean forward a little to pick up some speed.”

Hugo looked at him like he’d just asked him to jump off a cliff. “Don’t worry,” Ron reassured, “you’ve got this, and I’ve got you.”

Hugo nodded, determined, and pressed forward on the broom. It instantly sped up, jerking Hugo forward and making him yelp. He pulled the broom back too far, making him nearly vertical and he started to fall off. 

“Whoa there!” Ron said, grabbing his son before the broom shot up into the sky. Ron held his hand out and said “Down,” and the broom calmly flew back around and landed on the grass.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Hugo said, whimpering, “I’m no good at this!”

“Hey, hey…” Ron said holding him close, “it’s alright, it was your first try.” Hugo still hung his head. “Listen, I have failed at SO many things, SO many times. And some of them I gave up on. But some of them I kept going, and practicing, and some of them I got pretty good at.” Hugo frowned, like the idea of practicing to be good was something that only happened to his father. “Hey, you know who else has trouble flying? But you can’t tell anyone.” Hugo leaned in conspiratorially as Ron whispered, “your mother.”

Hugo backed away, trying to figure out what game Ron was playing. “But...moms good at everything…”

Ron laughed, “She has some faults. But you didn’t hear it from me, ok?” Hugo nodded, conspiratorially. “But She also tries like no one else. That’s how she got so good at everything. So, what’d ya say? Give it a few more tries?”

Hugo nodded, and Ron brought the broom up again.  
They tried three more times, each one slightly longer than the last, but each still ending with a little yelp and a thump from Hugo as Ron caught him. Before they could get re-set up for a fourth attempt, Rose threw open the back door, her hair a fiery red mane that refused to lay flat no matter how many attempts Ron and Hermione made. “WILL YOU QUIT IT?! I’M TRYING TO DO MY HOMEWORK!” And slamming the door on them again.

Ron squinted at the door humming quietly to himself. “Ooooh,” Hugo said, “Rosie’s in trouuuubleeee.”

Ron sighed. “Practice mounting and unmounting without me for a bit, Hugo, maybe even lifting off the ground. I’ll be right back.” 

Hugo still giggled as Ron went into the house, looking to see Rose sitting at the kitchen table, her papers strewn out before her like her bag had exploded. As he looked closer, he noticed it wasn’t just her hair that was red, but her eyes were red and a little wet as well as she poured over the paper. 

Ron hadn’t wanted Rose to go to muggle school at all to begin with. She was finally old enough to talk properly and fun to play with. “I never went to school as a kid!” Ron protested to Hermione, “And I turned out fine!” 

“Ron, you barely know your times tables!” Hermione argued. 

“Is that a table with a clock on it or something?” Ron made the mistake of wondering allowed, which earned him a look of pity and horror from his wife. “Harry says he got bullied in muggle school.”

“Harry grew up in an abusive household,” Hermione said, “And his main bully was his own cousin. Our kids aren’t going to have that problem.”

Ron was grasping at straws now. Why’d he have to marry a lawyer? “Can’t I just keep one of them here at home?”

Hermione sighed, grabbing his face, “You’ll be fine. We’re not sending the kids away, not yet. And maybe you’ll have time to do something else, more writing or traveling or something. Besides, you still have Hugo for two more years.”

That was two years ago, and Hugo was set to start soon. Rose was working on her summer homework that she’d been putting off, and apparently it wasn’t going well. “Hey, Rosebud,” Ron said, using his nickname for her, “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry about the door,” she babbled quickly, “I just meant to close it, and the wind picked up and thats why it slammed!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Ron said, not believing her, but gave points for a creative explanation. “How’s the work coming?”

Rose shut her eyes, but he saw the batch of fresh tears burning their way through her eyelids. “I KNOW this,” she said, “I remember, I learned it already! But I just...I just forgot! Mum told me to work on it sooner, but I didn’t and now I forgot and it’s all my fault and it’s just TOO HARD, I can’t DO it, I--” She broke off as the paper in front of her suddenly burst into flames and she screamed. 

Ron whipped his wand out, “Aquamenti!” he shouted and doused the fire. 

Rose sniffled and started sobbing in earnest, looking at the crisps of the work she’d done. “Hey, it’s ok,” Ron said, pulling up the chair next to her and holding her tight, “It’s ok, it’s ok. People don’t learn things once and then just know it. Sometimes you have to learn and re-learn lots of times. I certainly have.” She whimpered and he gave her a squeeze, “You know what this means, though?” She shook her head, hair rubbing against his robes and getting even frizzier. “Your magic powers have come in.”

Her head shot up so fast he didn’t know how she didn’t get whiplash. “I...I did?” she said, looking at her papers. “I’m--I’m a witch! I really am!”

“You certainly are,” Ron said, kissing the top of her head. “Why don’t you go write a note to your mum and tell her? She’s working late, but I’m sure she’ll want to know! I’ll see if I can salvage this paper.”

She jumped up and ran to get a quill and parchment. Ron sighed. He was sure Hermione would be home soon anyway, but this would get her home faster. He could make a nice celebratory video. He did as promised and worked on restoring Rose’s homework (which she had done a number on, he was proud and frustrated to say), when Rose called. “Dad! There’s an owl at the window for you!”

Ron sighed, determined he had done the best he could (it was readable) and would ask Hermione for help later. He got up to let the owl in that was clacking on the window pane. 

It was Harry’s owl, Jadis, a snowy just like Hedwig. He was partial to them, apparently. They had a normal barn owl as a family pet, but Jadis was Harry’s in particular. 

Ron gave Jadis an affectionate pet. She was nice and friendly. Ron had thought about stealing her more than once. She offered her leg, and Ron plucked the letter from it. It was just a simple note, but Ron actually hadn’t heard from Harry in a while, so he was looking forward to what he’d have to say.

He opened the note, and read it.

And then read it again.

A third time for good measure, and to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

 

“WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS?” Ron said, nearly ramming down Harry’s door at Grimmauld place. 

“Shhh,” Harry urged, but the painting down the hall had already started screeching. There was a reason he’d moved out of this place. He cast a charm to silence Sirius’s mother, though the curtain only muffled it, really. “Honestly, I wrote you a letter so you WOULDN’T come here!”

Harry looked...well, he looked like shit. He clearly hadn’t shaved, possibly in several days. He was still in his pyjamas, and smelled a bit like firewhiskey. Ron might have pitied him, if he wasn’t being pushed by anger. “You thought I wouldn’t come when you tell me in a LETTER that you’re divorcing MY SISTER!?”

Something fell on Harry’s face. “I…” he started, but his voice left him, seemingly of its own volition. “Look, Ron, I get it, ok? She’s your precious sister who you care about and if I hurt her they’ll never find the body.” He collapsed on his chair in the kitchen, that seemed to be the center of the nest he’d created for himself. “Well, I did, so...bury away.”

Ron stared him down. He’d barely told Hermione what happened when she got home, before apparating in front of Harry’s door. He was supposed to be making a celebratory dinner for Rose, but all he felt was protective anger. “What happened?” he nearly added his typical ‘mate’ at the end of the sentence but stopped.

Harry gave half a shrug. “It just...it wasn’t working out.” he said, going for a handful of bertie botts and eating the whole thing, which was a scary idea. Ron could only imagine what sort of taste combination that could be. “She was working, I was working...we only were ever in the same place when dealing with the kids. We tried to talk things out, but…” A tear slipped down Harry’s face. It looked like it was making a pretty familiar track. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Well, tough,” Ron said, standing in his line of sight, “You got married, bucko. I was there. You SWORE to love her!”

“I do…” Harry said softly, just like he had on his wedding day. “I love her. Or...at least I love the she was when we got married….”

“What?” Ron asked, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It DOES,” Harry said, “Or it does in my head, anyway.” He took a swig, but Ron grabbed the bottle out of his hand. Harry glared, but continued. “I loved Ginny when we were kids, not even 17 and taking walks and feeling like...like I was someone else. Not the me who was burdened with Voldemort or Dumbledore or fate or anything. Just...just a person, a happy person.” He sighed, “When Voldemort died...and I was still here...I wanted to be that person again, that person with Ginny. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t…” His lip wobbled, and he couldn’t meet Ron’s eyes, “It was always just a fantasy.”

“You sound like a coward.” Ron accused him, earning a glare from Harry that was more hurt than anger, “So you’re just going to leave her? And your kids? Weren’t you the one who was angry at Remus for leaving his family?”

“I’m not leaving my kids!” Harry insisted, “I love the...I love them with everything, I just can’t give them what they need. I’ve TRIED, I tried so hard.” He whined. “This isn’t about what’s easiest for me, this isn’t about...about leaving. I still want to be there for them, but…” He wiped his eyes under his glasses, “I don’t know how.” 

“Then figure it out,” Ron said, “It’s not easy being a father or a husband, I understand that better than anyone, but you have to try and keep trying even when you want to give in.”

“You’re not LISTENING to me!” Harry said, “I don’t want to give up, I don’t WANT to leave but Ginny’s found--” His voice caught in his throat. “She’s...she’s found….someone else.”

That’s when Ron collapsed into a chair as well. “She...what?”

“Look…” Harry said, “All I want...all I’ve EVER wanted in this marriage was for Ginny to be happy. And if that’s not with me…” his voice hitched again, and he let his words fall. 

“But...Harry…” Ron said, “You’re my BROTHER. In everything but blood. You can’t give up! Fight for her! Show her you’re better than this other guy.”

Harry winced. “I’ve made my decision.”

Ron frowned, frustrated, “Let me talk to her-”

“No!” Harry said, “Ron just….just let it go, mate. We’ve both been over this so many times, I don’t want to drag it out anymore. It’s hurting her and me and the kids and...I just want what’s best for everyone.”

“But Harry--”

“Get out Ron,” Harry said, “I have to get ready for work.”

He slumped upstairs without acknowledging Ron anymore. The portrait of Mrs. Black screamed again as Harry passed, but he didn’t even bother stopping it this time. 

Ron watched him go, thought about following, but instead, turned away, still boiling in anger. Whoever that man was, he decided, it wasn’t his best friend.

 

“Of course he’s still your best friend,” Hermione said, getting ready for work a few days later. Ron had already dropped Rose and Hugo off at school (Hugo’s first day! He couldn’t believe it!) but managed to get home before Hermione apparated out, “He’s Harry, he’s our Harry.”

“You should have seen him, Hermione,” Ron said, “He’d just...he gave up! It’s so unlike him. You remember how Harry would go after everything and anything. Wouldn’t let go of that Draco business or Snape or whatever, right up until the end.”

“He’s just going through a hard time right now,” Hermione said, “I think you’re being too hard on him.”

“No, I’m doing what he did.” Ron said. Hermione looked at him, eyebrow raised, “When Remus ran, Harry yelled at him, and that forced him to go back.”

“Not every couple separation is like Remus and Tonks,” She said, head bowed for just a moment in mourning, “sometimes...sometimes the bravest thing you can do is let go.”

“You didn’t,” Ron said, “when I left. You didn’t let go. And so many people told me to go back, I...I wish I’d listened.”

Hermione smiled, but there was something sad in her eyes. “Did I ever tell you...I dated someone while you were gone?”

“What?” Ron said, beating down his own jealousy with a stick.

Hermione didn’t meet his eyes. “I thought I’d pushed you away for good. And, well...I reconnected with someone I knew in muggle school. I’d seen him over summers and such. He asked me for dinner and I...I said yes.” Ron didn’t speak, not trusting himself. “It didn’t last long. I always felt like I was holding back. I never felt that with you, even when we argue it’s always just, 100% honest.” She sighed. “I tried to make it work, but it didn’t. So I let him go. Even though I was alone, even though I NEEDED someone there, I didn’t want to be in a broken relationship just because I wanted a relationship.”

“But you weren’t married,” Ron said, “they’ve been married so long!”

Hermione screwed up her face, “I’ve always thought Harry and Ginny got married too soon,” she said, “the war just ended, and they were still just kids...the older I get the more ridiculous it seems. Sometimes I think WE married too young.” She shook her head, waving off his concerns before he made them, “sometimes it works out, but it’s a risk. Marriage is always a risk, that two people will change to be too different. And to do it when they still really don’t know themselves...but they’re my friends so I didn’t say anything.”

“But…” Ron said, fumbling for more arguments, “Harry and Ginny have THREE kids together! What’s that going to mean for them? To live with separated parents.”

“Actually, I think it might be because of them.” Hermione said, “Harry grew up in a house without love. He doesn’t want to do that to his own.”

Ron huffed through his nose, “I still don’t think it’s right.”

“It’s not your decision,” she said, before coming over to kiss his cheek, “I’m off to work. Don’t stew in this all day, please.”

She went for the door, but just before she opened, there was a knock.

Confused, they opened to reveal Luna Lovegood, hair longer than ever, with a pair of muggle laser disks hanging from her earlobes. “Oh! Luna, hi,” Hermione said, “I’m sorry, I’m actually on my way out.”

“No worries, Hermione,” Luna said, “Have a good day at work! I’m actually here to talk to Ron.”

Ron and Hermione exchanged confused looks, but Hermione left, and Ron let Luna in, “so, what can I do for you?”

“I’m here to offer you a job,” Luna said, jumping straight into the point, “Ginny tells me your kids are going to school now, so you’ll be home alone. 

Ron frowned, a little sore at the mention of Ginny. She was refusing to talk to him right now. “A job? As what?”

“Travel guide,” Luna said with a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron goes on a strange adventure with Luna, who helps him come to a number of realizations about himself, Harry, and the future.

Ron was trying to figure out how he got here, sitting in the middle of the German Wilderness, sitting across a fire from none other than Luna Lovegood, who was humming a tune he didn’t recognize, her hair braided back into a long plait that reached her waist, and clacking a pair of sticks together over the fire. 

Of course, he knew how he LITERALLY got here. With the ok from Hermione that she could handle things for a few weeks, he decided the idea of another journey ‘round the world was suddenly appealing. He missed his kids while they were off learning muggle things, and worse, the time alone left him thinking about Harry and Ginny, what had gone wrong, and what he could do to reverse it.

It was driving him mad. So, he wrote Luna by the end of the day, saying he’d be glad to go with her while she was looking for...for...something. A creature she was convinced lived out here. 

It’s hard to say that Luna had ‘mellowed out’ over the years, because she was ALWAYS pretty mellow. Ron couldn’t think of a single time she had ever lost her temper or done anything other than just be herself. Ron liked that about her. It was different than with nearly anyone he knew, full of passionate arguments and meltdowns about what they loved most. Or maybe that was just Ron. 

However, Luna had changed over the years. She had accepted out loud, that some creatures, like Nargles and crumpled horn snorckacks, existed mostly in the realm of fiction. According to Ginny, (back when Ron was speaking with her) it had caused quite a bit of tension between herself and her father, but eventually, they agreed to disagree about their life’s work. 

Luna told him a bit of that story herself, as they meandered through the woods, looking for a umm...a Drude! That’s what it was. Some nightmare spirit that wizards waved off as fictional but muggles were convinced existed, and so Luna was exploring that possibility. Luna had emphasized that while creatures in the quibbler were just stories, they were GOOD stories, and that was important, for a reason Ron hadn’t quite grasped yet. 

“The stories shape how we think of things,” Luna said, “And our perceptions of the world can shape the world itself, right down to our actions.”

“I...I guess?” Ron said, not really getting it. Reality was reality and fiction was fiction. 

“Well, for instance,” Luna said, “Despite the fact they haven’t won in your lifespan, you still support the Chudley Canons, correct?”

“Hey, don’t go insulting the Canons,” Ron pouted, “They’re due for a world series win. It’s coming.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. Ron sighed, “I see your point. I think. My perception of the Chudley Canons isn’t necessarily based in reality, right? It’s a story in my head?”

“But it’s a good story,” Luna said, “One you hope will come true,” she clacked her sticks together more, now wandering around the fire itself, and looking into the night, “And so you continue to root for them. Just like I hope to find creatures that no one else has found before, even though I haven’t yet. It’s a good story, and that affects my actions.”

“Huh,” Ron thought. Luna always made him think, he’d give her that. But, he was a contrary sort of person, so he felt compelled to keep laboring the point, “Ok, I can see how hope can affect things, but stories that are completely made up...I just don’t get how that affects actions. Certainly not my actions.”

“Oh but it does,” Luna said, “You more than anyone should notice the effects a story might have on you.”

Ron frowned, “‘Me more than anyone’?”

“YOUR story,” Luna emphasizes, “Your perfect family story between you and Hermione.”

Ron’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline (which was receding more than he’d like). “My what?”

“Your story,” Luna said, “Your perfect story of friends who come together and fall in love through adversity and stay together forever.”

Ron choked on his own words for a moment, feeling his temper rising, but knew that Luna didn’t--wouldn’t ever--mean to offend, not really. “I don’t know if you’ve ever met me and Hermione,” he said, knowing she had, “But our story is hardly perfect. We broke up multiple times. We were in denial of our feelings forever. It took a lot of hard work and communication to get to any kind of happiness, and as much as I love her we STILL fight sometimes.”

“And yet you come through it.” Luna said, “Not a lot of couples do.”

Ron bit his tongue, “You heard about Harry and Ginny.”

“You could say that,” Luna said, staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

Ron huffed through his nose. “Is this why you brought me here? Did Ginny set you up to this? To talk me down?”

“Yes, no, and not exactly,” Luna counted on her fingers. “Yes, that is part of the reason I wanted you to come with me, though I do need a guide and as one of my closest friends you were the obvious pick,” she turned, at the sound of something in the forest, but dismissed it as not being something she was looking for, “No, Ginny did not put me up to this, though I did discuss it with her, and she eventually agreed it was a good idea,” she picked up her sticks again, clacking them, hoping to attract the drude, “And it wasn’t to talk you down, just...to tell you a different story.”

Ron eyed her, suspicious. “What kind of story?”

Luna looked back, hesitating, then sat down beside Ron. “Why do you think it’s so bad that Harry and Ginny are divorcing?”

“Because!” Ron said, “Divorce...divorce is bad! And they’re my family, I don’t want bad things to happen to them!” 

“Why is divorce bad?” Luna asked.

“What do you mean, ‘why is divorce bad?’” Ron said, “It’s divorce!”

Luna shook her head, “That’s just a story. Divorce isn’t bad in all cases.” 

Ron scoffed, “Ok, maybe not in all cases,” Ron said, “but thats like, when one of the people is clearly wrong for the other one. Like, to help a good person get away from a cheater, or an abuser or...something.”

“So divorce only happens if one of the people is bad?”

Ron sighs, “I don’t know...maybe. It just...it makes people unhappy.”

“Harry and Ginny are already unhappy,” Luna said, “They have been, for a long time.” 

“But WHY?” Ron said, “They’re both good people! Why can’t they just...work this out?!” 

“That’s a nice story,” Luna said, “and it’d be nice to believe in it. But that doesn’t make it true. So. Why is it bad if Harry and Ginny get divorced?”

“Because!” Ron repeated, floundering for words. Arguing with Luna was nothing like arguing with Hermione, full of offense and defense. Luna just...guided him through and shot his arguments down one by one. “Because what about their kids? My niece and nephew! Living without their father!”

“Harry’s still their father,” Luna said, “Divorce can’t change that. He wants to still be in their lives, and Ginny still wants him to be in their lives. And hers.”

“But then why get divorced at all!” Ron said.

Luna sighed, “They can still be friends. They were friends before they were together, very good friends in fact. They can go back.”

“But...but isn’t that weird?”

Luna tilted her head at him. “Weird for them...or weird for you?”

Ron stared at her for a long moment. “I…” he started, “I don’t want them to get divorced,” he said, realizing the words as he spoke them. “I don’t...Harry is my brother. He’s been my best friend for the longest time. I LIKE the idea of us being brothers. I don’t want to go back to just being friends.”

Luna held his hand, giving it a squeeze. “There is nothing ‘just’ about being friends. Being friends is amazing, monumental, and can give the best relationships in the world, sometimes ‘just’ the same as romantic, ‘just’ the same as family. Friends are family, when they’re really special, like you and Harry.” Ron sighed, looking at his knees, thinking. “And Ginny is not there to be the bridge between you.”

“I know, I know.” Ron said, “It’s just...it was...it was a nice story. Us being brothers.” 

“It is a nice story.” Luna said, a small smile on her face, “Though….maybe someday...you could get used to the story of another sister instead.” Ron frowned at her, confused. Luna often said things he didn’t understand, but this was really out of left field. “I’m dating Ginny,” She explained.

“YOU’RE WHAT?!” Ron shouted through the woods.

There was a response from the trees in the form of a strange hissing. Ron and Luna looked up to see a strange little imp on the tree branch, with feet in the shape of pentagrams and eyes pitch black. “It’s a Drude!” Luna cried in joy, “Congratulations Ron, your sudden panic must have attracted it to us!” 

She raised her wand and with a number of interesting formations, managed to capture the small creature in a bubble, bringing it down to a special cage she had prepped. It chewed on the bars with sharp teeth, but whatever Luna had made them out of, it held. 

Ron was sitting in a bit of shock, like the world had been turned upside down. Ginny was dating LUNA of all people. And...and she and Harry were getting a divorce. They could still be friends, and parents, but the romantic love between them was no more. 

The love, the brotherly love between himself and Harry, though, that hadn’t changed. That WOULDN’T change. Marriage or no, Harry was his brother, and-

And--

That gave him an idea. 

“Hey Luna?” he said as she fawned over the small imp in her cage, taking notes and staring fascinated at it, “I think I need to do something back home. Do you mind if I--”

“Go on,” Luna said, not even looking up. “Have fun!”

 

It was rare the entire Weasley family was in the same place at the same time. Even on holidays, there might be someone missing, like Bill visiting Fleur’s family, or Charlie busy with dragons, or Ron on another trip. But this time it was important. Wives and children were brought along as well, Rose and Al off in the garden, George teaching James very terrible tricks, Ginny trying to tell them not to do so, Hermione having a nice chat about work with Angelina, little Lily trying to babysit even littler Fred because she was convinced she was old enough, and the rest of the adults just trying to coax Molly to please sit down, everyone was fine, no, no one needed tea, just please rest. 

The only one not engaging with anyone was Ron. This was his idea, and if it all went terribly wrong than it was his fault. Hugo sat on his lap, playing a game quietly to himself, because sometimes the family got to be a bit too much for him, so Ron brought him into another room. This unfortunately left Ron with far too much time to think. 

The last guest to arrive was the only one who didn’t know what to expect, who thought he’d be spending this Halloween alone. Ron wanted to do this sooner than now, but it had taken a lot of preparation. and he was set to arrive at any minute.

Finally, there came a knock on the door. “Ron,” Mr. Weasley said, “Do you want me to-”

“No, no,” Ron said, “I’ll get it.”

He got up and went to the door. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Harry said, trying to hide how glum he was, but Ron could see how on edge he seemed. “You said you needed to talk to me about something? Some legal matter?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, “Come in, come in, we’ve got everything all set.”

“‘We?’” he asked as Ron led him to where everyone was.

“DADDY!” James and Lily both shouted, running up with Al.

“Hey! Hey kids!” Harry said, his face brightening even as he tried to take in the looks of everyone around him. He gave them all a hug, lifting Lily into the air. Tiny Fred had started crying, so Angelina had to pick him up. 

“Hi, Harry,” Ginny said, smiling as she came up. 

Harry’s face went through a complex set of emotions, “Hi, Ginny,” he said, respectful, and with a smile. “What is all this?” 

“Well, we know things didn’t...work out the way we once hoped,” Mr. Weasley said, as eyes awkwardly went between Harry and Ginny, “But we thought that was no reason why you shouldn’t still be family. So, we thought we’d make it official,” he took out the papers they were all there for, “These are adoption papers. You can keep your name and everything, of course, but if you were willing, you could still join our family.”

Harry blinked as he took the forms in his one available hand, looking them over. “Is this…” he said, “is this for real?” he said, looking around. The whole family smiled at him, “But...I’m nearly 30 years old…”

“No age limit on family, mate,” George said, “Besides, it’s cheaper to adopt someone who’s already capable of feeding himself.”

Harry gave a soft breath that might have been a laugh, if he wasn’t so overwhelmed. His eyes went straight to Ginny. “Are you sure...is this okay?” 

“I was the first to sign on,” Ginny said, nodding, “You’re my family, and you always will be.” her mouth twitched in a smile, “Though this was Ron’s idea.”

Harry turned, practically in slow motion to face Ron, who was struggling to keep eye contact. Any time he did look up, he saw tears forming in Harry’s bright green eyes. “Yours?”

Ron shrugged, “Unless you don’t like it,” Ron said, “In that case, Hermione made me do it.”

A ripple of laughter went around the room, as Hermione shot Ron a glare. A tear dropped down Harry’s cheek, but he was still smiling. “I do like it,” he said. “I...of course I do.”

Molly came up to him, red hair turned grey with time, and wiped away his tear with her thumb, as she’d done to all her children. “You know I’ve thought of you as one of my own for the longest time, right?” She said, “starting all the way back when Ron sat next to you on that train.”

Harry’s lip wobbled, and he just hugged her, squishing his daughter between them.

 

Hours later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated all the way up to Ron’s old bedroom laughing like they were teenagers again. They hadn’t felt like kids at the time, but now, looking back the memories seemed so young, so innocent. 

The kids were having some big sleepover party downstairs, and the adults all scattered around, or left if they needed to. Charlie and Percy left not long after giving Harry a hug and a welcome Bill and Fleur were set to take their clan out that evening after dinner. 

“Do you remember,” Ron said, “That one time when Snape was teaching DADA, and he was trying to get you to treat him with respect or whatever,” Ron snorted, trying to finish his story, “And you looked him straight in the eye and said ‘There’s no need to call me sir, professor!’”

He, Hermione, and Harry exploded into laughter, until there were tears in his eyes. “I wonder if that’d work on the Minister!” Harry said, “Next time he tries to chide me on how I’m handling the auror department.”

“Oh please do,” Hermione said, “And do it in front of the Wizengamot so I can watch!”

“You should run for minister, Hermione,” Harry tells her, “Merlin knows you’d be better at it than anyone.”

“This is what I’ve been telling her!” Ron said, nudging Harry’s shoulder, “The exact thing!”

Hermione sighed and rolled her head back, “I don’t have near enough experience yet.”

“So?” Harry said, “You’d be good at it. I’d endorse you, that’d help a lot.”

“Oh goodness, please don’t,” Hermione said, “Vote if you want, but I can do without the rumormill about how Harry Potter’s taking over, and using his friends as puppets.”

Harry groaned and collapsed back on the bed. “If I was really that powerful, I’d use that power to abolish the Daily Prophet, aka, the bane of my existence.”

“I think talk like that is fueling the rumors, mate,” Ron reminded him.

“Well I don’t want that power,” Harry said, “I never did. It’s just no one else would step up!”

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks over Harry’s head. “What?” Harry demanded/

“Huh?”

“Excuse me?” they said.

Harry sighed, “You guys always do this thing where you have these silent conversations, where you both have talked about something before, but you want the other one to bring it up, so you move your eyebrows at each other weirdly until one of you gives in.”

Hermione and Ron both frowned, “We do?” they said in sync.

Harry’s lips twitched, “Rose and Al do an amazing impression of it.”

Hermione gaped, then turned to the door, “I’m going to have a little talk with Rose and Al.”

“But not now,” Ron said. He looked at Hermione once, and realized he was about to make the exact same eyebrow gestures Harry had described, and so he just sighed and said, “We’re...worried about you. And your job.”

“What do you mean?” Harry said, “What about ‘my job?’” 

“We know things have been stressful for you recently,” Hermione said, “But...well...Ginny mentioned that your job seemed to be making you unhappy.”

“Incredible,” Harry said, “Putting away dark wizards can make me unhappy. What a brilliant revelation.”

“Please reserve the sass for professors,” Ron said. “Look, I thought the same way as you did for a while, but...I mean, that’s why I stopped being an auror. That’s why I’ve been jumping around from job to job. It makes me happy.”

“But it doesn’t keep the dark wizards away,” Harry said, “Look, what I’m doing is important, and that’s fulfilling enough for me.”

“Is it?” Hermione asked, “Harry, be honest with me. Is it?”

Harry paused, looking at her, and contemplating. Ron knew that look, it was the same one he had all those years ago, when Hermione made him re-think his own life. “It’s necessary.”

“Harry, the war is over,” Hermione urged, “You’re not the ‘chosen one’ anymore.”

“Tell that to the Daily Prophet,” Harry said, sarcastically. 

“We mean it,” Ron said, “you know why I was comfortable quitting? Because I knew you were there to take over and keep things going.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I know,”

“And now,” Hermione continued, “there are other people to take up the fight. They’ll keep things going.”

“But they don’t know!” Harry said, sitting up, his hair more of a mess than usual, “They don’t know what it’s like, they’ve never been in the mind of a dark wizard like I have they don’t--”

Hermione sat up behind him and held his shoulders. “The world isn’t on your shoulders anymore, Harry,” she said as gently as she could, “You can let go. It’s time to live your own life, not the one that’s been set before you. Maybe take a break for a while, and then...you can do anything. Anything you want.” 

Ron sat up too, going more for a clap on his back. “He dark magic never ends, mate. But you’ve left people behind to take it up. It’s their turn now.”

Harry took a shuddered breath. “What even would I do? I don’t know what else I could want.”

“You could do what I did!” Ron said, adjusting to sit in front of him, “Make lists, figure out what you like or don’t like. Read up on some books, do some studying. Hermione and I will help you, right Hermione?”

Hermione, though, was smiling, just slightly mischievously. “Harry, I’ve known what you were going to be since you were 15 years old.”

 

Many months later

 

“You sure this isn’t a step backward?” Harry said, Ron standing beside him as they looked up at the brick castle. 

“Nah,” Harry said, “Teaching is a step forwards. You know, shaping the future and all that.”

“Then why don’t you take the job?” Harry asked.

“I thought about it one year,” Ron said, “Right after McGonagall retired, Sprout came to me about it. But, then Hermione was pregnant with Hugo and they found someone else.”

Harry took a breath, uncomfortable. He had been preparing to interview for the Defense against the Dark Arts position at Hogwarts ever since he quit his job at the ministry. He and Ron went on several adventures after that. Harry was pretty rubbish at making ice cream, but he made a very good advertisement. Ron was already taking notes for his new book. 

“Don’t worry so much,” Ron said, “Neville tells me the last guy they had was shite. Just old and cranky and bossy. And yelled a lot. You’ll be fine.”

Harry sighed, “I know I can do this,” he said, “I just don’t know...I don’t know what I don’t know.”

Ron put a hand on his shoulder, “Stop stressing. In a few years you’ll be running the place.”

Harry snorted. “Let’s get me in as just a teacher before I start going for the headmaster position.”

“You got it,” Ron nodded, “I’ll be waiting for you at the Three Broomsticks, with a bint of butterbeer like the old days.”

“Oh, I can’t drink that stuff anymore,” Harry said, “WAY too sweet.”

“What!” Ron said, “Nevermind, you ARE old and cranky, let’s go back home.”

Harry gave him a shove. “I’ll be right back.” he said, and went into the castle. 

 

He would get the job, of course, just like Ron knew he would. And it would take more than a few years, but one day he’d be headmaster and welcome new students and care for them. He’d set up an organization for wizard orphans to go, and revolutionize programs for students who had nowhere to go on breaks. 

Hermione, meanwhile, would run for minister of magic, once her kids were both in Hogwarts. Ron redecorated his truck with a giant picture of her face to advertise her campaign. She’d win, and her fuzzy hair would start turning grey with the stress, but Ron would be there every step of the way, cup of tea in hand. 

Ginny and Luna ended up getting married, but Harry still went to support them, and their kids all had a part to play in the wedding party. Ron made a speech, saying while Harry was the only MAN good enough for his sister, Luna was the only woman, gaining a laugh and an eyeroll from Hermione. 

All of Ron’s friends and family went off to do great and interesting things, trying to make the world a better place, with incredible careers. Someday his kids and niblings and all their friends would too.

But Ron never stuck to one career for very long. He cherry picked his jobs depending on what he felt like at the time. His favorite job was and always will be, supporting the people he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats all folks, this was so fun to write and I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> PS: I cried like a little baby writing Harry get adopted.


End file.
